


The Finn Identity

by Awakening5



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Blood and Violence, F/M, Get it?, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, The Finn Identity, like Bourne Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2018-12-30 17:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12113829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awakening5/pseuds/Awakening5
Summary: "I don't remember anything," he says, finally lifting his eyes from his hands to look at Solo. Saying the words aloud makes them all the more real, and a sense of hopelessness creeps inward. He might never know. He might always live as a man at his destination without a journey. A self, without ever having become. "I know nothing about who I am."-Finn wakes up on a boat with no memory, no family, and no clues except a tattoo and a set of skills no man should have.





	1. F-N

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sad I didn't get this chapter out on FinnRey Friday. Amnesia was such a great prompt, and I just couldn't get this Bourne Identity idea out of my head. Ergo, I write. Hope you enjoy the first chapter.

His eyes don't immediately shoot open when he awakens. Sometimes that would be the correct action—but when he is so completely unaware of where he is, he needs to take a moment to observe his surroundings, even without his sight. And if there is anyone watching, they won't know he's awake yet.

The first thing he gauges is just how injured he is. His shoulder aches from a stabbing wound—one that was only recently and poorly repaired. But he knows he would have enough mobility for a short adrenaline-fueled fight, should the need arise. The bandages wrap around his bare shoulder and chest, perhaps limiting mobility just a little bit more than the injury itself. His head aches as well, but he can't feel any lacerations.

His body rocks gently with the sway of a boat. It's likely a large freighter given the light effect the tides seem to be having. He doesn't remember how he got here.

In fact, he doesn't remember...anything.

"It's been three days, Chewy," a gravelly voice says, to the side of the bed... _he_ is in. He's at least sure he's a he.

A foreign language responds to the aged voice who spoke first. _He_ immediately recognizes it as Shyriiwook of Kashyyyk, though he doesn't know how he understands the language. The tonal language is garbled, but it is as clear as Basic for the man with no memory.

" _So what, you want to toss him overboard again_?"

"Of course not," the first man replies easily, in Basic. "But we can't stay in these waters any longer. He'll just have to find his way back again. Jakku isn't safe right now."

The man who speaks Basic came to _his_ bedside and handled something on a tray beside him. Unwilling to wait for what the man would do to him, _he_ opens his eyes at last to the room he's been lying in. It's small, clearly just some quarters for the freighter's employees. Two such employees, an older man in his mid-sixties, and a large bearded man startle at his movement.

At his bedside is a tray with some first aide materials. He reaches out and snatches the needle and tourniquet tie, testing out his arm's mobility while he's at it. He swings his legs off the bed while reaching out to the older man and wrapping the tourniquet around his neck, bringing the needle to his jugular in one swift movement.

"This is the thanks we get for saving your life?" the older man wheezes out, hands desperately pulling at the tourniquet while the Kashyyykian—Wookiees, _he_ thinks they go by—yells at him and takes a step forward. The large foreigner had no weapon on him, but at his size, _he_ wasn't sure how easily he could beat the Wookiee in hand-to-hand combat. Especially with a bum arm.

Meanwhile, _he_ saw the older man with a holster on his hip. The hostage was too busy gripping the tourniquet to reach for his gun, but _he_ wrapped a leg over his hip to cover the gun.

"Easy!" _he_ says, tightening the tourniquet and pressing the needle to skin. The man called 'Chewy' stopped his advance. "Let's just take a minute."

"Yes, let's," says the older man through his squeezed throat. "How about you release me."

" _Where am I_?" _he_ asks in Shyriiwook, impatiently looking at the large man.

" _On the_ Eravana," he replies in his language, an impressed look crossing his face. " _It's a cargo ship_."

" _Why am I here?_ "

"We found you, kid," the old man says. "Floating in the water. Wouldn't have picked you up if I knew you were this violent."

 _He_ doesn't trust them, but a swell of guilt rises in his gut as his behavior. Why had he been so swift to violence and mistrust in the first place? He eases his grip on the tourniquet, pulling the gun from the man's holster before pushing the man away from his bed. Now that he can see it, he knows the gun to be a DL-44.  He stands quickly, gun pointed at the old man. The Wookiee seems to care a great deal about the man, and wouldn't make a move if he thought it might endanger him.

"I'm sorry," _he_ says earnestly, but kept the gun pointed at them. "But I don't know who you are."

"Han Solo," the older man says through a cough, rubbing at his throat. "This is Chewbacca. And you're welcome for saving your life. Who are you?"

And a great sea of nothingness is _his_ own response to the question. Try as he might, no words, no images, no name, no feeling of home or self come to mind. His eyes drop slightly in despair as his head starts to throb painfully at the effort. And then he sees something tattooed on the inside of his wrist. He tilts the gun to get a better look at the tattoo.

**FN-2187**

"F-N" _he_ starts softly, more to himself than his saviors and/or captors.

"Finn?" Han Solo questions, obviously mishearing him.

"I don't know," _he_ responds slowly.

"Well that's what I'm calling you," Han says with an eyeroll of impatience. "Put the gun down, kid, before you hurt yourself."

And _he_ knows somewhere deep inside him that he would never hurt himself with a gun.

"DL-44," _he_ responds. "You law-enforcement? Or.." He leaves the alternative open for Han Solo to respond with.

"Or former military who doesn't exactly run a safe operation."

" _Or a legal one_ ," Chewy says smarmily.

"Listen, fur ball," Han says, turning on the larger man. "You can just keep that mouth shut. We run a perfectly respectable establishment."

Before _he_ can interrupt them for more information, a large clunking sound reverberates throughout the ship.

"Ah, shit," Han Solo curses. "I knew we hung around Jakku too long. I hope you're happy, Finn."

"Why do I care about Jakku?" _he_ responds, genuinely curious. He's also starting to like the name Finn, even if it's a temporary stopgap until he remembers. If he remembers.

" _Great_ ," Chewy groans. " _We stayed here for nothing."_

"That was _your_ idea," Han Solo grates out, pointing aggressively at the larger man. In a poor Shyriiwook accent, he continued. "'We've got to stay close for when he wakes up' you said. Well, now Kanjiklub has found us, Chewy."

" _Well, now we have someone else on our side to fight them off."_

"He's pointing my gun at us!" Han Solo says, incredulous. "Give me my gun, kid. We've got to fight."

"Who are these guys?" Finn asks, nodding to the door to where this Kanjiklub was boarding the ship.

"I borrowed some money for some cargo," Han waves his hand dismissively. "And they're just a little impatient."

" _We are six months late on the payment_ ," Chewy contributes.

"And I'll be giving them interest. They knew there wasn't enough time when we made the deal. That's how they cheat everyone."

"You did agree to it, though," Finn suggests with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

" _I like him,_ " Chewy says.

"Well of course you do," Han groans. "You've wanted to nearly choke me to death for years."

"Look," Finn says, trying to focus the old man. "I'm just trying to decide who to team up with here. You saved my life, but it sure sounds like Kanjiklub is the safer route."

Han turns back to him. "Look, kid. I'm not a saint, alright? But Kanjiklub is dirty. The worst kind of loan sharks that are in deep with the First Order. All the horrible things you hear the First Order doing, funded in part by Kanjiklub. I didn't realize this until _after_ the deal I made with them, of course. And that's why I've never paid them back. I don't want to help fund those terrorists."

Finn's head throbs at the mention of the First Order. Much like the Shyriiwook language or the type of gun in his hand, Finn just _knows_ about the First Order. Remembering none of his own past, he has no idea where the basic knowledge came from, but he knows they sought to overthrow the Republic through vicious acts of terrorism and suspected assassinations. And he's got a sick feeling in his gut at the mere mention of them.

"Fine," Finn says. "Follow me."

"Follow _you_?" Han asks incredulously. "How about you give me my gun back and you follow _me_? I know this ship."

"I'm not giving you this gun," Finn says definitively, and searches the cabin for anything. Clothes, guns, knives. He only sees what he can assume is his own shirt. It sits at the foot of his bed, torn and bloodied. He still has pants on, though they are tattered as well. He can't find shoes anywhere."You have more weapons?"

"In my personal quarters," Han responds with a glare.

"How many can we expect from Kanjiklub?"

"At least a dozen."

"There will be a few stationed at your quarters by now while the rest search the ship. You tell me where to go, and I'll lead the way."

Han begrudgingly agrees to the plan, and they set off. The ship has thin corridors, and Finn has to walk tenderly to keep his bare feet from making too much noise on the cold, hard floor. At each juncture, Finn peers around the corner carefully.

On two occasions, the small group has to pause and hold their breath as voices of men approach. Fortunately, both times, Kanjiklub takes the wrong turn and the voices fade.

When they arrive at Han Solo's quarters, Finn leans around a corner and sees three men standing outside the door. They wear dark clothing, almost samurai-like in its design. It is loose fitting but for the wrap that comes up over their mouths and noses, leaving only the eyes for identification.

Finn retreats behind the corner. "Is there another way to the other side of the hallway?" he asks.

Han nods. "Just a quick loop on the outside of the ship."

"Can one of you go around and make some noise? Just enough to gain their attention, not to call for backup?"

"Not without my gun," Solo replies. Finn ponders this for a moment, reviewing his plan. Then holds out the gun to Solo's astonishment.

"Only fire this if they get past me," Finn says. "If you do, the others will come running."

"What's your plan?" Solo asks, hesitantly.

Finn shrugs. "Take them down."

Solo opens his mouth to argue, but then sighs and reaches for his gun. "As long as I've got my gun, I don't care how you get yourself killed."

And he leaves with Chewy in tow.

Finn peers around corner once more to gauge his targets. He's not impressed. One of them is checking his phone, another staring at the ceiling and rocking on his heels. Only one appears to be concerned with guarding the door. He will be Finn's first target if given the opportunity—removing the most competent member of Kanjiklub will make taking the other two down much easier.

Solo clangs his gun lightly against the wall a few minutes later, just enough to draw the attention of the three guards and have them whispering among themselves. One is commanded to stay behind while the other two step forward slowly and cautiously. He watches after them, back turned to Finn.

Finn hurries forward, stepping quickly but silently, rolling along the edges of his feet to keep them from slapping onto the cold floor. He reaches the man before the other two have taken more than a dozen steps.

He winds up, bending his good arm into itself, and swings his elbow into the back of the guard's head, just under the round of his bone. The man instantly crumples to the ground, but not before Finn grabs his gun out of his loosened grip. Finn leaps into a sprint towards the other two guards, now turning to face the unexpected sound behind them.

Finn charges at the man he observed to be more disciplined, who is already raising his run to fire. But Finn is upon him and batting the gun away before he can get off a shot, swinging his fist at the man's jaw. He backs away just in time.

Out of the corner of his eye, Finn sees the second guard take a swing at him with the butt of his gun, too close to his own companion to take a shot. Finn ducks under the gun while bringing his own gun down hard on the man's knee cap. It bends backwards with a gratifying crack. He screams out while falling to the ground, but Finn's injured shoulder flares with pain from the more competent guard reacting to the fight, striking Finn while he was turned.

Finn knows no permanent damage has been done, but doubts he'll be able to use that arm in a fight anytime today. Instead, he angles his body against the lone assailant and makes himself thin to attack, protecting his injured shoulder. He drops his gun and waits out his opponent to check his next move, bouncing lightly on his feet.

Above the wrap around his face, the man's eyes study Finn, but there is fear in them. Finn knows his next move before he does. When he raises his gun to fire, Finn blocks the weapon once more and drives a knee into the man's gut, forcing him into a hunched-over position and an easy target for Finn to knock him out with another elbow to the head.

He drops to the ground, and Finn spins around with his leg extended, driving his heel into the still-wailing man's temple, effectively silencing his cries.

Behind him, Finn hears a sound and quickly drops to the ground to pick up his discarded weapon and avoid potential fire. In one movement, he grabs the gun and looks down the barrel to see Han Solo and Chewy walking towards him slowly, hands in the air.

"Easy, kid," Solo says, and Finn picks himself up. By the time Solo reaches him, Finn's heart has slowed, his shoulder is on fire, and he's out of instinct-mode. Together, the three men standing survey the three fallen.

"Holy shit," Solo says at the same time as Finn.

Finn had known he could do this—he didn't know how he knew it, but he had been confident. But now, looking back on the three trained men completely incapacitated, Finn is terrified of what he's done.

"Kid, I don't know who you are, but I'm glad you're on our side."

" _Where did you learn to fight?"_ Chewy asked, giving a low whistle of appreciation.

Finn looks at his hands, shaking. Not in pain or with adrenaline, but fear. And the fear is entirely of himself, not of the remaining members of Kanjiklub on board the vessel. After all, he knows he can take them. Even injured and without a weapon. No, he's scared of himself—and the worst of it is, he doesn't know how scared he _should_ be.

"I don't know," he answers softly.

Solo turns to face him, appraising him anew. "That's the second time you've said you don't know. What do you mean, kid?"

"I don't remember anything," he says, finally lifting his eyes from his hands to look at Solo. Saying the words aloud makes them all the more real, and a sense of hopelessness creeps inward. He might never know. He might always live as a man at his destination without a journey. A self, without ever having become. "I know nothing about who I am."

Solo looks back at him, sadness creeping into his eyes and revealing the fallacy of his tough exterior. "You help me get this ship cleared, and I'll help you get answers."

Finn nods. In this moment of introspection, his mind is a torrential sea, full of nothing but vicious waves under a gloomy, grey sky. But with Han Solo's words comes a break in the clouds, where a single beam of light gives hope. With some time and his help, maybe something will be revealed. Maybe Finn can remember who he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized after writing this that it is the first Star Wars chapter I've ever written without FinnRey in it. I knew it felt off for some reason! But that should change as soon as next chapter, whenever I can get that written.
> 
> I really hope you liked the chapter. Let me know how you feel.


	2. Takodana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...it's been a year since I wrote chapter 1. Kudos to you if you even remember that chapter. Also kudos to you if you're joining us for the first time. Hope you enjoy.

Finn's new backpack feels heavy. He is very aware he is holding thousands and thousands of credits on his person now, and even if no one besides Solo, Chewy, and the guy who bought Kanjiklub's boat off of him know it, Finn knows he is a bigger target now than he was when he was wearing tattered pants, a shirt that clearly didn't belong to him, and didn't have a cent to his name. Whatever his name was.

But, Finn is grateful Solo had called in a "work acquaintance" as they docked in Takodana, and the rather shady character had come and bought the boat that they'd stolen from Kanjiklub. Finn now has the money for a fresh start and to begin his search in earnest. And after a quick stop at an outlet to change his clothes, Solo promises him he knows "just the person" who can help start his quest.

Finn doesn't exactly have memories of other places to compare it against, but he recognizes Takodana is a beautiful city anyway. The world is green around him, full of life. The city isn't built at the expense of the nature around it, but is built almost as a _part_ of nature itself. The streets are lined with trees and well-kept gardens, seemingly every building is careful to include a courtyard to showcase the natural growth of the area, and the city expands out instead of up.

Finn follows Solo on a bus, his eyes finding every possible assailant on the vehicle and on the streets they drive on. In his mind, he memorizes the layout of the city as far as this bus route will allow him, noting the one-way streets and dead-ends in case he has to flee at some point. They arrive at their destination soon enough, and after a five minute stroll down a pair of roads, Han points to a rather insignificant brick structure that Finn assumes is an old building that rents out to lower end businesses.

"Maz is a bit of an acquired taste, so let me do the talking," Han starts as they approach the main entrance.

Finn grunts his acknowledgment and they enter doors into an unimpressive lobby. An older man at the front desk looks up at them, and his eyes flash with recognition when he sees Solo. He jerks his head to a door to his left, and Finn realizes he had this place all wrong.

Solo opens the door to a staircase, and the small crew descend into a secret hideout of dim lights and a reggae variation sounding throughout the club-like hall.

Even though Finn knows he has no memory beyond the past week, he recognizes this place as very unique. A quick glance around the room reveals a wide range of people of all colors, creeds, and countries. But one thing they all had in common is that they were carrying. The only people who didn't have a gun visible on their person were the employees at the bar or waiting tables. And Finn suspects there are a few weapons under that bar that the tenders could use in a pinch.

The club itself is open, and surprisingly well-lit. The music is loud enough that conversations can't be heard from neighboring tables, but soft enough to be heard at the same table. Finn immediately gets the impression that Maz's place is a safe-haven for criminals. Though everyone is armed, no one has had need of their weapons in this place. This is a place of business—not _business_.

Even as he takes in every detail of the club, spotting potential exits and counting the number of people (and weapons) in each wing of the club, Finn somehow manages to miss one of the waitresses carrying a tray of drinks. He bumps into her and immediately spins around to help her catch the tray. He has a hand on her arm steadying her, and sees just a light slosh of a drink escape the mug.

"I am _so_ sorry," Finn gushes as he finally looks up at the woman he bumped, and his heart skips a beat. She's in a skirt that reveals strong, shapely legs. She's fit and athletic. Her hair is tied up in three adorable buns, and she's biting back clear frustration at being bumped into—her look of exasperation is quite appealing. Quite unsure of how he missed this beauty when he surveyed the room, Finn forces his mouth closed when he realizes it has fallen open entirely on its own.

"It's fine," the girl responds tersely, and he can't help but admire her patience with him. Her face slowly transforms from one of frustration to patience, and then Finn thinks he sees something else in her eyes as they linger on him a little longer. "You with Han?" she asks, nodding forward.

Finn looks back over his shoulder quickly, having forgotten he was still supposed to be following Solo. He'd much rather stay right here with this girl. "Yeah," he breathes, his mind a little slower than normal. He's unsure if his amnesia is showing another symptom or if this girl really is making such an impression on him. "Yes, we're going to meet with Maz."

The girl smirks and Finn's stomach clenches oddly. "Don't let her be too hard on you."

He feels a smile come of his face. "Thanks, uh..."

"Rey," she answers with a smile before glancing at her tray of drinks.

"Rey," Finn tries the name out on his lips. He likes it there very, very much. "Well, sorry again for almost spilling your drinks. I'll let you get back to it." Only now does he realize he's still got a hold on her arm, where he'd steadied her. She hasn't tried to pull away, but he eases his grip anyway. She seems to lean towards him as his hand drops.

"It was a nice save," Rey says, and Finn can't help but hope that she's drawing out this conversation for the same reason he seems to be. "I didn't get your name."

"Finn," the answer comes easily. And he doesn't think why.

"Finn," she repeats, another smile playing at her lips. He likes his name on her lips as much as he liked her name on his. "I'm happy to have bumped into you."

"I'm sure we'll want some drinks later," Finn starts, and Rey's eyes shine with happiness at his hidden invitation.

"I'll be sure to drop by your table, then."

And after a moment of smiling at one another that lasts a little longer than even Finn's short memory—and its limited examples of human interaction—deems necessary, Finn is startled by Han's voice, calling from across the club. "Hey kid, let's go."

He says goodbye to her brilliant smile and turns to leave. As he casually looks back over his shoulder—and finds her doing the same thing—Finn is startled to realize that for the first time since he woke up on Solo's boat, he isn't casting his eyes about the room looking for potential assailants or escape routes, he isn't finding every potential hiding place for a gun, and he isn't dwelling on the empty bank of his mind where memories should be stored.

He's just thinking about a girl's smile, and how he'd like to see it again.

"Hey kid," Solo's voice surprises him again, and he looks up to see the older man smirking at him at the entrance to a secluded booth. "I know there are many sights to see in this place, but I'd like you to meet Maz."

She's old, is Finn's first thought. But it's followed quickly by noting how sharp and perceptive she is. Finn gets the idea that this woman already knows him better than he knows himself (though that's not saying much  at the moment) with just one glance. Her age doesn't seem to have slowed her down yet, either, as the short woman steps forward quickly and peers up at him through thick bottle cap glasses. Her eyes are engorged to a comedic size, but Finn doesn't laugh. He's frozen to the spot except for a hesitant glance at Solo as if to ask, "What's she doing?." He simply shrugs in response, either not having an answer, or not caring enough to give him one. He feels like a valuable specimen in a laboratory under Maz's scrutiny, but at last she clicks her tongue and nods.

"Sit," the woman demands as she steps back, apparently approving of whatever she was looking for. Finn slides into the booth after Chewy and Han without taking his eyes off of her. He doesn't trust her, but he also doesn't think she's a threat. "Han tells me you don't know yourself."

"I've got no memories," Finn clarifies. He likes to think he knows a little about himself in the short time he's had to observe his own actions and reactions. "The only hint at my past is this tattoo."

He reaches his right wrist across the table for Maz's inspection. Her eyes immediately flicker behind her thick glasses, and though Finn can't tell what she's thinking, he knows she recognizes the tattoo. Still, she grabs his hand and inspects it closely. The font is simple, calligraphy free of all pomp. This was no art, tattooed for beauty or distinction.

**FN-2178**

"I've seen it before," Maz hums quietly, looking back into Finn's eyes. Han shifts uneasily in his seat and Chewy crosses his arms. But Finn matches her gaze, afraid of her news, but ready to hear it. "Just as I've seen that look in your eyes—the look of a lost man. But a man who is willing to find."

A voice to Finn's left breaks the tension over the table, "Sorry to interrupt," Rey says, hesitation sweeping across her features as she survey's the anxious table. "Finn mentioned you may want a drink?"

"That'll be necessary, I think," Han answers gruffly before requesting a beer. Finn finds himself shockingly pleased and distracted by Rey's voice saying his name.

Maz had seen the tattoo before. Even without her elaborating, Finn understands the implications. This number on his wrist. Multiple tattoos like this meant there are multiple people like Finn. Highly skilled in combat, clearly trained to observe and react to his surroundings—he was one of many in a program. This and the rigid font and nature of the lettered and numbered tattoo suggest the tattoo was an identifier, perhaps even to dehumanize.

And yet: "Finn?" Rey asks, and for just a moment, her concerned eyes on him make him forget it all. "A drink for you, too?"

He clears his throat and manages to smile at her. "Thanks, Rey. Yeah, I'll have whatever Chewy's having. I trust his taste more than Han's."

She laughs—and if her smile and voice made him forget he was a number, her laugh makes him remember he is human.

"I see you already met Rey," Maz says with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. "Don't tell the others, but she's my best and favorite worker."

Rey rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Is that why you won't let me work overtime or this weekend?"

"I won't let you work overtime," Maz corrects with a stern glare, "because you should be doing more with your evenings and weekends than bringing drinks to hooligans like Han."

"Hey!" Han says good-naturedly. "Rey happens to be an old family friend, and I'm sure she has no problems with bringing me drinks."

"You do tip well," Rey concedes with a smile. Then she turns to Maz with a quirk of her eyebrow. "Which I need more of if I'm ever to get to school and out of this fine establishment for good, which seems to be your goal."

Maz waves her hand. "Yes, yes—go get Finn his drink. _He's_ not going to tip well if you take this long to put in his order."

Finn wants to assure her that the conversation is _adding_ to the tip, not the other way around. But she grins at him and winks, and he forgets for a moment how to speak as she turns to leave. When he finally pulls his eyes from her retreating figure, he finds Han, Maz, _and_ Chewy looking at him with amused expressions.

"So," Finn clears his throat. "You've seen the tattoo before?"

Maz's visage darkens and she nods. "The man I met with the same tattoo was involved heavily in the First Order, though I don't know the details. He was here to confirm a meeting place with a known First Order leader—they tend to do things outside the digital world. Easier to stay hidden from the Republic."

Finn feels his heart thud against his chest painfully. At the mention of his potential involvement in the First Order, his stomach begins to churn, and his chest constricts. He couldn't...he couldn't possibly be one of them, could he?

"Listen kid," Han said. "I'm not going to stop you from going. But have you considered forgetting about who you were?"

Finn allows the rather insensitive phrasing of Han's question because maybe he's right. Maybe he shouldn't find out who he was. When Finn doesn't answer, Han continues. "You don't seem like the First Order type—and maybe you could find a life you can be happy with away from them."

And for a long moment, Finn considers it. Maybe he'd stop right here in Takodana, find a job working security somewhere—surely with his skills, he'd be able to do that. He could become a regular at Maz's here. Maybe get to know Rey a little better...

But there is an emptiness in him. And Finn knows it's not going anywhere. It will always haunt him, this void in his mind and heart. And it is no one else's job to fill it but himself. And the only way he can think to fill it is to remember.

"I need to know, Han. That doesn't mean I'll go back to that life when I find out—but I have to know."

Han studies him closely, his eyes sad but understanding. Meanwhile, Maz starts scribbling something down on a piece of paper. As she slides it over to him, Han nods carefully. "I promised to take you, kid, and I plan on fulfilling my word. But if you forget who you are when you find out who you were, Chewy and I aren't going to stick around."

Finn frowns as he looks at the piece of paper with a meticulously scribed address on it. "Well, hopefully your fears are nonsense, Solo. We'll be hundreds of miles from everything, and I'd hate for you to ditch me in Hoth."

Rey chose that moment to return with the drinks. She gasped when Finn said the name Hoth, and looked at him wide-eyed as she set down his drink. "Are you going to Hoth? I've always wanted to go to Hoth!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"Who wants to go to Hoth?" Han asked her incredulously. "It's a barren wasteland up there!"

Rey groans. "Han, when will you learn to see the beauty in this world? I'm not saying I'd want to live there—but did you know I've never seen snow?"

Finn couldn't say that he wanted to go to Hoth beyond finding out who he was, but he found himself smiling at Rey's wonder as she went on to describe the beauty of Hoth. "Just the idea of a place where the sun doesn't set in the summer, or rise in the winter, where life seems so impossible, but some of the most beautiful animals have found their homes. Not to mention the rich history and culture of the human civilizations over thousands of years. It's incredible."

Han waves her off, but he's smiling. Chewbacca is nodding along with her, and Maz is checking her watch. "Rey," she says with a raised eyebrow. "You were supposed to clock out two minutes ago."

Rey's eyes widen and she sighs exasperatedly. "Maz, you can't be serious—I have a customer that specifically requests I bring him drinks," she says, motioning to Finn, "and you want me to leave after I take his order?"

Maz merely folds her arms and nods with a smirk. Finn, however, thinks that the world might be coming to a close when Rey says, "Fine—have a good evening, everyone." She turns to Finn and she smiles shyly at him. "It was nice to meet you, Finn."

He feels a smile come to his lips and he nods in reply. "You too, Rey. I hope our paths cross again."

She grins at him and turns away. After watching her leave for a third time that afternoon, he turns back to the crew that aren't even trying to be subtle in their amused smirks. "What?" he asks, fully knowing what.

"For a deadly warrior," Han says, "You sure seem harmless when you're looking at Rey."

Chewy piled on, his Shyriiwook someone making his comment seem _more_ offensive. " _You remind me of lovesick teenagers at the academy._ "

Finn had no rebuttal, and was saved by a small man running towards their table, quiet-yelling for Maz. She waved him over. "Maz, Kanjiklub is upstairs, demanding to be let down."

Han stiffens, Chewy stands from the table, and Finn is standing up, gun in hand before the man is finished speaking.

"They know they're not welcome here anymore," Maz whispers to the man.

"They say some of their men were attacked and pushed out to sea on a lifeboat—they've traced Han Solo back to Takodana, and need to find him."

"Shit," Han says, defeated. "I knew we should have killed them."

Finn considers arguing with Han, but his mind is already thinking of options and exit strategies. He can worry about the moral complexities of killing people when he doesn't know who anyone is at a later time and place.

"Is there another way out of here?" he asks Maz, who looks up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Employees come in through the back. You can all leave there."

"No," Han says gruffly. "They'll be chasing us from here to Hoth if we just run—they'll find us. We need to split up. Kid?"

Finn considers it for a moment, and knows Han is right. "You'll be okay leading them away?" he asks.

He nods. "And this way, we don't have to worry about us ditching you in Hoth."

Finn laughs. "Listen, Solo—"

Han cuts him off. "Yeah, yeah, thanks for saving your life, I get it. But kid, I did promise to help you out, so you let me know that this all worked out, ok? Let's meet in a week—I've got a friend in Cloud City named Lando. He runs the mining facility there. You ask for Han and Chewy, and they'll take you to me."

Finn is touched. He's only known Han for a few days—and sure, he helped him escape Kanjiklub, but Han could dump him right here and now, and Finn wouldn't think twice about it.

"Yeah. Thanks, Solo."

They clasp and shake hands, and Finn finds himself dearly hoping he'll see these old men again. He gives a farewell to Chewy and thanks the idiosyncratic Maz for her help. And then he's gone, hurrying through the bar to the employee's exit, clutching the address in his hand with a death grip, even if he's already got it memorized. He steps through a pair of doors and hallways, up a new flight of stairs, swings open the door, and finds Rey, shocked, as she was reaching for the door Finn just opened.

"Finn!" She exclaims, hand on her heart. "You scared me!" She does look properly startled, and Finn notices she's loosened her hair, and her apron is unfastened around her waist. He wonders if she forgot to remove it before leaving the building, and she was on her way back in to hang it up.

Finn must have been inspecting her for too long, because she hesitates for a moment before looking at him curiously. "What are you doing here?"

Finn briefly entertains the idea of joking that he came to find her and get her number—but now is not the time for flirting, _and_ he doesn't remember how to flirt, if he ever knew. So he fights the indescribable urge to make her laugh or blush.

"Maz sent me this way—there's some people who showed up for Han and me."

Rey scoffed. "Someone's after Han? Who'd have guessed." She reaches forward and grabs Finn's arm, leaning in conspiratorially. "You know, I love the man, but you really could choose your company more wisely."

Finn smiles, but his instincts are telling him to get moving even if he's really enjoying this chance encounter with Rey. He looks behind him anxiously. He's got to get clear of this place, find a train or bus or taxi service, plan a two or three day trip, read up on Hoth and the First Order and the New Republic and—

"You said you wanted to go to Hoth?" Finn says suddenly, acting on a half-formed thought in his overwhelmed state.

She removes her hand from his arm, takes a step back, crosses her arms, and looks at him suspiciously. "Yes," she says slowly. "Why?"

"I'll give you 10,000 credits to take me there."

Her eyes widen almost comically before they narrow once more in suspicion. "You could book travel there and back for a tenth of that—hell, you could buy a nice car for that."

Finn nods, acknowledging how crazy he sounds. "Yes, well, I don't want public transportation, I don't own the identification necessary to purchase a car, and I'd really like to borrow your phone to read while we're traveling."

Rey looks stunned, but she's not saying no. So Finn keeps talking. "Look, I know you don't work this weekend, and you need to make some money for school, and you want to go to Hoth."

"Yeah," she nods, but with worried eyebrows. "All of that makes a whole lot of sense to me. I just don't know why I'd travel the continent with a stranger who doesn't have I.D."

Finn's mouth opens and he has no words. Of course this was foolish.

"Right—of course you're right not to trust me. That's actually really smart of you. Take care of yourself, Rey."

He moves to push past her, but she stops him, a hand on his chest. Her fingers are long and thin, feel rather nice on his chest, and she's surprisingly strong. "Convince me."

"Huh?" he asks, not sure he heard her right.

"You're with Han—and as much trouble as he can be, I trust that man with my life. So, tell me your deal, and convince me. I could really use that money."

"Oh," Finn fumbles. "Okay, um...I don't have I.D. because Han found me floating out at sea, half naked, with nothing in my pockets. He is trying to help me because I helped him escape Kanjiklub—a group in league with the First Order, which I have a very strong feeling is a horrible organization that I don't want any part of. I'm going to Hoth because Maz told me _this_ ," he says, holding out his arm to reveal his tattoo, "is the same type of mark she's seen before in a First Order operative who met in Hoth. And I'm going there because it is the only hint as to who I was before I lost all my memories a few days ago."

She stands in stunned silence for a long moment—long enough for Finn to glance back over his shoulder again with worry that Kanjiklub is on their way. He's got to move if she doesn't answer soon.

But she does answer. With a shake of her head and after a mumble of, _I must be crazy_.

"Okay."

"Okay?" he asks, quite unconvinced _anyone_ would buy his story, much less trust him after hearing it. "I must sound insane to you."

She nods, and her eyes reveal that she's still very nervous. "insane, but honest," she clarifies. "No one trying to take advantage of me would feed me that story. And Finn, if that's your real name—"

"—it most probably is not," Finn interjects, to her surprise and seeming consolation.

"Well, I'll call you that anyway for now," she replies. "Because Finn, I could use the money, I _have_ always wanted to go to Hoth, _and_ I could probably use a little more adventure and spontaneity in my life. But don't try anything, because I know how to take care of myself."

"I believe you," Finn laughs. "Though, full disclosure, I know several forms of melee and armed combat. Not that I'd ever test you with it. I enjoy my life and your company far too much."

Finn nearly cringes that he would tell her how lethal he is and then proceed to hit on her, but she seems to appreciate the honestly. And the flattery.

"Alright," she says with a deep breath. "Let me drop my apron back in here, and we'll be on our way."

"Right," Finn says. He takes a deep breath, unsure of just how much different travel with Rey will be compared to Han and Chewy. He knows one thing—Rey's brief, if understandably nervous, smile as she walks back out into the parking lot makes him feel things Han and Chewy never could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be straight with me. Does anyone even care about this fic? Given the long wait, I'd totally get it if just about no one was still reading or interested in doing so. I've got a fun outline for this fic, and I'd love to write it. But I also have other fic ideas that I'd explore if interest in this one is low.
> 
> So let me know what you think! I really hope you like it so I can justify continuing to write it!
> 
> This isn't one of those author ultimatum things. Just trying to decide where I should put my time and energy. Thanks!


	3. In Transit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the wonderful response on this fic! I'm happy to continue it!

Rey is understandably anxious as she throws her small bag into her back seat and climbs back into the driver's seat. They stopped off at her small apartment downtown so she could pack a bag for a few days of travel, and now she's focusing on getting to the highway.

But Finn sees it in her stiff posture, in her anxious glances over at him, and in the occasional shakes of her head, as if she's having a war of opinions in her mind. And he knows he's the subject of that war.

"So, tell me about yourself, Finn," she says, voice higher than it had been when they'd talked back at Maz's.

He could tell her about the nagging fear in the back of his mind. The obvious truth about himself that he can't avoid, and has been needling him since Maz told him about his tattoo. But he hasn't been able to confront it in his own mind, so he certainly can't verbalize it. Not with Rey, who he's already put in such a tough position. So, instead, he lets out a noise caught between a laugh and a scoff.

Finn hopes his scoff doesn't come across as demeaning. It's really much more self-deprecating than aimed at her in any way. "Well, I think I'm in my early twenties. My accent tells me I'm from the eastern reaches—though I speak at least four languages, and Chewy tells me my Shyriiwook sounds nearly native, so who knows if my accent is actually indicative of my birthplace? I'm very observant, generally focused, and something tells me I'm punctual."

He flashes her a grin and hopes that she finds a little humor in his final response. After a beat, she does actually laugh and lifts her eyebrows, "Punctual, eh?" It releases some of the tension in the car. She shakes her head before muttering, "Sorry, Finn. I guess that's an insensitive request for someone with amnesia." She glances over at him apologetically.

"Don't be sorry," Finn is quick to reassure."I'm the one who should apologize. I can't think of many worse travel companions than someone who can't remember past five days."

"Someone who can't remember past four?" Rey offers.

Finn laughs and nods his head. "Fair."

"I'm sorry," she gushes again. "That is really not funn—"

"No, no. You know what?" he cuts her off with raised, placating hands. He was the one who tried to lighten the mood in the first place. "I've put you in a very tough situation, and you're using humor to diffuse it. Not only is it understandable, but I appreciate it. And don't worry—I can take it."

She shuts her mouth and nods. "Okay. Good, thank you."

"You, on the other hand, _can_ tell me about yourself."

She takes a deep breath and her hands tighten around the steering wheel. "My name is Rey..."

She hesitates on her last name, and Finn doesn't blame her. "You don't have to get specific, Rey. I get it."

"You are really understanding, Finn. Thank you."

"You've got to stop thanking me when it's you who's helping me out so much," he laughs as she makes it to the freeway entrance—they'll be going north on this road for over 24 hours. So he's extra careful not to infringe on her privacy more than he already is. "So your name is Rey."

"Yeah, I'm Rey. I grew up in Tatooine before going to a boarding school in Ahch-To. Then, when I turned 18, I moved to Takodana, where I've been for a few years. Figuring out what I want to do with my life while I save up money—unsuccessfully, I might add—for whatever that life is."

Finn nods. Tatooine. No wonder she's never seen snow. Somehow, his brain supplies the knowledge that Tatooine is second only to Jakku in terrible, hot places to live. And Ahch-To is along the ocean, where it just rains 85 percent of the year. "Do you like working at Maz's?" Finn probes, hoping she's at least comfortable talking about the place they met.

She doesn't talk all at once, despite his question. It starts out stilted and hesitant. Finn isn't sure if she's nervous, or just not a natural talker. But her answers are very basic, like the response 'fine,' to the question, 'how are you?' 

When silence does fall, it's awkward, and he's desperate to fill it somehow. She's very pleasant, despite the tension, and doesn't show any signs of annoyance, so he continues to ask questions and give his thoughts when it's possible.

She is a good driver, he realizes after twenty minutes of driving, and she's taken care of her car. When he comments on it, she blushes rather beautifully, and scrunches her face up so adorably he feels a warmth sweep through his entire chest.

And then the conversation isn't jittered or awkward anymore. He had found her thing—the thing that she's proud of and can talk about. She tells him about how she's good with machines, ever since she built her own go-kart in Tatooine. She's always just understood engines, and maybe a degree in Engineering could get her a job she could enjoy.

"Is that what you want to do then?" he asks her. "I bet you'd be really good at it."

"Yeah," she agrees, but she's hesitant. "But do I really want to spend my whole life just working on tools or cars or machines?"

"What do you mean?" Finn wonders aloud.

And she tells him about a friend she had growing up who didn't have clean drinking water for most of his young life (like many in Tatooine), and how maybe she'd like to just join a non-profit that helps the underprivileged. She tells him about all the injustices she's seen from her youth and working at Maz's, and Finn can see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. A genuine care for people; a selflessness that warms his heart—a heart that his brain tries to warn him about.

But he doesn't listen to his brain because Rey's face scrunches up again in that cute way when she mentions this service mission she had read up on and has been considering doing. Finn hangs on every word. This wonderful woman is passionate about this, and he sees something in her eyes that occasionally dart over to him as she's talking. Her past has more than a friend without drinking water. And he wants to ask her about it. He wants to learn more and more about her.

He doesn't want to push her, though. So he lets her continue talking at her own pace, about non-profits and service groups, and she wonders aloud if the best way to help is to get into Politics. After all, she's got an aunt who—

"I am so sorry, Finn," she interrupts herself after a few minutes of talking without interruption. She seems genuinely surprised—and perhaps even upset—at how much she's opened up, and shakes her head at herself. It's been over an hour, and Finn wonders where the time has gone, and when he stopped glancing in the mirror every fifteen seconds to check for someone trailing them.

And even though he knows he's let his guard down, he's...happy.

"Please don't apologize," Finn says. She glances over at him quickly before her eyes return to the road. "You wouldn't believe how wonderful it is to hear you talking about yourself. And about the world, and choices...and just life."

He looks over at her now, and it prompts her to look back. He can't help the smile that comes to his face. "And I've had this headache since I woke up five days ago, and hearing your voice and your passion—it's just faded away. And...I—thank you. Please don't apologize."

She smiles at him—and what a big, brilliant smile it is. He can't not smile back at her before her eyes return to the road. And again, there's silence in the car. Only now, it's comfortable and nice.

After another hour—and a few more stories of her move from Tatooine to D'Qar and how she still thinks of her young friend—Rey decides they should stop for a bite to eat in the next city on their trip. They arrive in Yavin just before the food trucks start to close down for the night, and they grab a pair of Bantha Burgers.

They enjoy a quiet stroll through the city center to stretch their legs after finishing their dinner. Well, on the outside it seems like a quiet stroll—internally, Finn is anything but relaxed and at leisure. Rey doesn't seem to notice, and she comments on the architecture of the city. "The intricate stone work is just breathtaking."

Finn can't help but admire and envy Rey. While he's eying every passerby, his instincts making snap judgments on each and every one of them, Rey is enjoying the world around her. And so he tries. He stares at her in an effort to emulate her. Instead, he gets distracted by her.

She's enchanting. The dim light of dusk and the city combine to give her skin a radiant quality. But nothing shines quite like her hazel eyes, casting about at the beauty of the city-center. Her visage changes in a moment from awe to beatific, and his stomach clenches warmly at this new emotion playing on her face. Finn manages to tear his eyes from her peaceful and endeared expression to its cause.

A group of children huddle around an ice cream stand, trying to convince the owner to just give them a taste. They're old enough to be on their own, but not old enough to have their own money—an awkward age for kids. Finn can tell their magic has almost worked on the ice cream man.

But there's no need for that, because it works on Finn easily. He takes out ten credits, hands it to the man, and tells him, "Mint chocolate chip for me, cookie dough for this beautiful woman, and whatever the kids want."

He quickly receives his ice cream and bounteous thanks from the delightful kids, and then turns back to Rey.

And he sees an expression on her face that looks a whole lot like how he felt when he was watching her. It makes him blush as he hands her the ice cream.

"Cookie dough," she says, looking at Finn with a shy grin. "How'd you know it's my favorite?"

Finn doubts this is one of his innate skills that he doesn't know the origin of. That would be an odd thing to have trained for in his murky past. And thinking about his past makes him realize something...important. Rey's done it again—just by her very presence, he has stopped being the paranoid, combat-trained amnesiac and has just become a normal member of society, hoping to enjoy a nice night with a friend. That nagging fear in the back of his mind had gone silent.

"Doesn't everybody like cookie dough?" he asks as an answer. They both try to hide their smiles by watching the children excitedly bounce up and down in front of the glass, pointing at the cartons that the ice cream server reaches into. One by one, the man loads a cone for each kid and sends them on their way.

"That was a nice thing you did, Finn," Rey says, causing his eyes to flicker over to her. She's looking down at her feet, a faraway look on her face.

Finn shrugs. He hadn't thought his action through beyond seeing that he could easily make a few kids' day. "It wasn't hard for me, so why not?"

She looks up at him now, inspecting him. Finn is reminded a little bit of Maz's intrusive gaze, but with Rey, he rather likes her looking at him. It gives him an excuse to look back. Rey is naturally beautiful. She doesn't have much makeup on, and he can see small blemishes in her still-youthful skin. Faded spots, a light scar over her cheekbone—Finn wonders what hit her there to split the skin. But these marks on her face don't change the fact that her freckles are nothing short of adorable, her slightly-parted lips are doing things to his lungs that makes it hard to take a full breath, and those eyes—those eyes that seem to be looking for something far deeper than blemishes, freckles, and lips.

Finn wishes he had a longer memory so he could reach back into his past and find something— _anything_ —that matched the color and vibrancy of her eyes. Maybe if he leaves the city, the rich forests of Yavin could match up. Maybe he'd have to travel back to Takodana and go hunting in its diverse foliage for something to remind him of her. But as she finally tears her gaze away from him, Finn knows he could never find something quite so brilliant and _alive_.

"Well, we should get back on the road, I think," she says, turning away with a blush staining her cheeks. Finn feels himself smile and follows after her.

Their second stretch of road is quite a bit different than the first. It is comfortable now—like he isn't a stranger who is paying a woman an absurd amount of money to drive him thousands of miles north. No, he is with his friend, now. He knows she's kind and honest, and conversation flows as smoothly as the car on the open road.

Though Rey soon insists he take her phone and start the studying that he had told her he needed to do. Finn would rather not. He'd rather listen to Rey talk about herself. But he understands that she's probably tired of that, and he really _does_ need to read up on the state of the Republic and the First Order.

Finn's memories are non-existent. But he still knows, somehow, the names of the countries in the New Republic. He still knows languages, and history, and dates. And he has no idea how. He tells Rey this, and they start to search for a pattern in his knowledge.

It becomes almost a game. And Finn finds Rey to be an excellent opponent, or teammate, in this odd sport of discovery. They start with cars, because that's what she knows best. As it turns out, Finn can't tell her how an engine works, beyond the basics, but he can tell her the make and model of every car they see passing by. He can tell her their high-end speed, a rough estimate of their zero to 60 time, and any shortcomings they have that could limit a driver.

She asks about weapons next, and Finn knows she's guessed what his past likely entails. He didn't exactly keep it a secret when he met her, but he feels an odd conflict in him over her knowing what he used to be. On the one hand, it's freeing to know that she is still driving in this car with him, smiling at him as they discover what he knows, despite knowing what he himself doesn't allow himself to think about. On the other hand, he'd never felt so good as when that smile makes him _forget_ who he was. When the ugly truth isn't hanging in the back of his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. When he is just be a guy falling for a girl.

Finn shakes his head clear of both troubling thoughts and returns to the questions she's asking. It's apparent she doesn't know weapons like he does. Though she uses terminology that surprises him a couple of times, and makes him wonder if her time in Tatooine wasn't a little sketchier than she's let on. Finn knows the country has the highest crime rate in all of the Republic. And this realization startles him.

"Rey," he interrupts her question about semi-automatic weapons. "Tatooine's a dangerous place, right?"

Her head snaps over to him so fast Finn worries about whiplash. Her eyes are narrowed, and she responds with a guarded tone. "Yes. Why?"

Finn realizes he's getting back into personal territory with her, and knows she'd prefer to tell him things at her own pace and not be probed. But that wasn't his intention. "How do I know that?" he responds, frustration seeping into his voice.

Her eyes turn from guarded to fascinated in the blink of an eye. And the discussion shifts from weapons to politics. To current affairs. Then to history.

She's got a great mind for history, and they quickly find out that Finn's knowledge is extensive, but skewed. His perception of the Rebellion from thirty years earlier is very negative. It was his understanding that the Empire had been doing a good job and was overturned by anarchists and warmongers.

When Finn tells her his knowledge of the battle of Endor, he notices Rey's hands clench around the steering wheel. He explains how a coward of an assassin snuck into the Emperor's chambers and killed him in his sleep.

"That's not true," Rey whispers, eye steely on the road ahead of her. Finn is a little frightened by the venom in her voice. "He wasn't a coward, and he wasn't an assassin. He went into the Emperor's throne room without a weapon, trying to reason with him—even if it meant his own life."

"You're probably right," Finn concedes. "After all, I don't know where I got my history from. That said, victors are the ones who write history—is it possible they've tweaked the story?"

"They didn't," she says with such finality that Finn can't believe she'd simply learned this in a textbook. There was something personal in her voice. A pain in her eyes.

"Okay," Finn says, and he's surprised to find he believes her completely.

"Okay?" she turns to him, head quirked, before returning to the road. "Meaning...agree to disagree?"

"No," he says, voice soft. "Meaning I believe you."

There's silence in the car for a moment. Then, "What do you know about the First Order, Finn?"

The elephant in the car. The undeniable fact that Finn's tattoo was found on a First Order operative has been hanging over him for the entire day and night—at least when he's not so distracted by Rey that he forgets about it. And even if Rey didn't think much of it initially, it's clear it's on her mind now, given the nature of Finn's view on history.

"I don't know, aside from a few things Han told me," he says,. His breath is suddenly short, and Finn can't get comfortable in his seat. "Terrorists, murderers, bringing anarchy in the name of order. But why wouldn't I know that without Han's help, if I know current events and history? Why don't I know more about this organization than a sick feeling in my stomach?"

After a beat, Rey responds, words hesitant. "Finn...could it be you don't know about them for the same reason you don't know about yourself? Your personal history is what amnesia took from you. And the First Order _is_ your personal history?"

Finn's heart sinks, his stomach churns, and his head throbs for the first time since they'd started the road trip. A light groan escapes his mouth without his permission, and he turns to look out the window.

He knows in his heart that's the reason. He's known this whole time. He wasn't just involved with the First Order. He _was_ the First Order. But to have it verbalized—and by Rey no less!—hurts him more than he thought it would. His head is swimming, and he's worried he's going to be sick in her car.

"Rey, will you pull over?"

"What?" she asks, wide-eyed as she turns to him. "Finn, you look awful!"

He doesn't want to open his mouth to respond, but Rey seems to get the idea anyway, and she pulls to the shoulder. The sudden decrease in speed does nothing for his sickness, and before the car has even come to a complete stop, Finn is stumbling out, crawling a few steps from the car, and vomiting onto the gravel.

_"FN-2187," a woman's voice echoes. "Top marks again. You'll be cleared for active duty in no time."_

_A paper target, blurry, and shaped like a man through the scope. Five bullet holes, stacked one on top of the other. Finn feels a sense of accomplishment and success. And dread._

_"The Knights will be anxious to meet you."_

A hand settles on his back as Finn dry heaves a few times. It runs up and down his back, soothingly, and his senses start to return to him. His lone memory is fragmented and unclear. It doesn't mean much to him, but it's his only memory.

"...is okay, Finn. Let it out," Rey says, and he allows himself to stop thinking about the woman's voice and the rifle in his hands.

He doesn't understand what Rey is still doing here. Why didn't she drive away? After this kind of confirmation about who he is?

He breathes deeply a few times and gathers his wits before scooting back, away from his vomit. He sits, hitting his back against the car with a _thump_. Rey's on her knees, looking at him with sad eyes. Compassionate eyes. He doesn't deserve her compassion.

But she takes his hand and squeezes it. It's sweaty. All of him is sweaty. Cold and wet and breathing heavily, he shakes his head at her. "It's been in the back of my mind since Maz told me about the tattoo," he admits."I didn't want to think about it; didn't want to believe it. But it's got to be true, right? I'm one of them?"

"Maybe you _were_ ," she sighs. "But you aren't anymore."

Finn scoffs. "I don't _know_ who I am, Rey."

Rey is silent for a moment before she moves to sit next to him, shoulder to shoulder, still holding his hand.

She doesn't offer any more words, so they just listen to the periodic traffic in the late night. They are far enough from any city that the chilly, cloudless sky gives them a beautiful view of the stars. He's grateful for her next to him. Now that his body has calmed down, the sweat is terribly cold, and the night air nips at his skin. He finds himself leaning into her for warmth. And something more. Her presence is doing something to the cold pit in his stomach. It's somehow bearable with her arm tangled in his, fingers intertwined.

Now that the fear is out there, exposed, he finally talks. "I can tell you the exact number of people who were at Maz's," he says, and his voice is hoarse and throat tired. "I can tell you how many of them were carrying, and the three that I was concerned about fighting, should I have to.

"I can tell you the street name of each street we passed while walking through Yavin. I can tell you two license plate numbers of cars that followed us for a suspicious amount of time, and at the distance I recognize is optimal for following. I can tell you that I can sprint for three and a half minutes at this altitude before my hands start shaking.

"Who the hell can tell you those things?"

There was silence for a moment. And then she responded, squeezing his hand again.

"I can tell you that Han Solo does not trust easily. And yet he looked at you like there's no one he'd want to go to battle with more. I can tell you that Maz does not help people who she doesn't have a good feeling about.

"I can tell you that most people don't just do nice things because they _can_. I can tell you that you made those kids' day, as simple as it was, for no other reason than that you could.

"I can tell you that you have been kind and generous...and honest...with me since the moment we met. That no one has listened to me the way you have in _years_.

"I can tell you _those_ things."

The throbbing in his head slows to a dull pulse. His stomach stops churning. His hand, still sweaty in hers, feels safe and secure. And his heart is thudding in his chest as he turns to look at her. More beautiful than ever despite her hair getting disheveled in the commotion. Despite, or perhaps because of, the sadness and _care_ in her eyes.

"Thank you, Rey."

She smiles back at him and nods. "Despite what you think," she tells him. "We still don't know the truth of who you were. And even though I don't think it matters at this point, we've got a full day's travel if you still want to find out."

And the thought does cross his mind to let it all go. Go back to Takodana with Rey and live out that fantasy he'd had earlier of starting a new life. But she's right. He still doesn't know who he was, exactly. And it would weigh on him forever if he didn't find out.

"Let's do it," Finn says with a brave smile. And he could be brave, because maybe who he _was_ truly doesn't matter, like Rey said. And if Rey said it, Finn thinks he can believe it, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the most plot-heavy chapter, I understand. Which isn't typical for me. But I found it vital considering where I plan on taking Finn and Rey in the next couple of chapters. Hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to write the next bit!


	4. Hoth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So grateful for the fun response this fic has gotten. Hope you enjoy this chapter--it was a fun one to write for a couple reasons!

The hum of the engine is a steady white noise, dulling the ebb and flow of the wind against the car. The sky began to lighten 30 minutes earlier, and the gradual dilation of Finn's dry eyes isn't doing anything for the fatigue beginning to overcome him. He lazily rolls his head to the side to look at Rey in the passenger seat, tucked uncomfortably against the car door, a thin blanket pulled over her.

She looks so peaceful, asleep and breathing slowly against the window. There's a slight fog where her breath hits, fading with each intake, and expanding with her exhale. Finn forces his eyes away from her, back to the road. They're far enough north now, and the hour is such that not many are on the road—still, it would be best if Finn didn't swerve between lanes and draw attention to themselves. Fortunately for him, the swell in his chest at observing Rey is enough to wake him more fully, a smile on his face.

He reaches over, and gently touches her arm, settled in her lap. "Rey," he hums. "Rey, the sunrise is almo—"

He doesn't get to finish his wake-up call, however. Rey snaps to attention and immediately reaches over with her other hand and grabs Finn in a perfect wristlock, bending his hand down while lifting the forearm up. It's painful and surprising, and the awkward angle of his arm bending into himself sends Finn swerving into the next lane over.

"Rey!" Finn laughs—and he truly does find it funny through the pain of the sneak-attack. He's almost immobilized by the hold and his need to keep the car from careening off the highway. "Rey, it's okay—I'm just waking you up for the sunrise like you asked."

She releases his wrist in an instant, and he looks over at her to see her blink her eyes hard a few times. Then she looks over at Finn with abject fear and then an apology in her eyes. "Shit, Finn, I'm so sorry!"

Finn finds himself still laughing at the situation. "When you said you could take care of yourself, I didn't know you meant in your sleep!"

Rey's silent for just a moment before quietly explaining. "I learned when I was very young how to fight—how to keep myself safe."

Finn's laughter stops, and the unspoken reasoning hangs in the car like a dark cloud. He doesn't know what to say, so he reaches the same hand out that she'd attacked, and offers it to her tentatively. After a beat, she smiles softly at him and interlocks her fingers in his.

He squeezes her hand and speaks softly. "The sun's coming up."

Rey's eyes turn from him at last to the horizon. She could lean toward the window to get a good look forward, but instead, she leans toward Finn and looks through the front windshield with him. Finn naturally leans into her, and follows her gaze.

Finn likes the sunrise—more pastel and pure than the more rich and flamboyant sunsets. Each has their place, but the peace and tranquility of a sunrise is unmatched. Finn thinks Rey might agree, as a sigh passes her lips. He leans forward slightly, so he can look back at her to see the glacial blue sky reflected in her hazel eyes.

She catches him looking, and a blush sweeps over her face. "You should watch the road," she reminds him with a smile. She looks more flattered than annoyed, and Finn squeezes her hand again with a wink.

"Of course," he grins, leaning back and keeping his eyes on the road.

The bright yellow of the sun emerges soon, and Finn's happy to note Rey's hand is still clasped tightly in his.

She reaches her other hand over to cover his forearm and squeezes him gently. "It's so peaceful."

Finn hums in agreement, and after a moment of confusion, he realizes he actually does agree. He's at peace.

 

Finn wakes in the middle afternoon. A couple hours after sunrise, they'd filled up at a gas station, and Rey insisted Finn get some shut eye. Initially, he put up a fight, deciding instead to look up the layout of the small town of Hoth, including the strange building that Maz had given him the address to. He didn't think he'd be able to fall asleep, but between the hum of the engine, the warmth of the heater, and Rey's hand loosely in his, her thumb rubbing soft circles over the back of his, he was lulled into a peaceful slumber.

"Where are we?" he asks, moving past the sleepy stage into alert observation before Rey even knows he has awoken.

The world outside is grey. Grey skies, grey roads, and grey ground. Finn wonders if the snow would look a purer white if the sun were out—but the sweeping clouds feel heavy all around them.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Rey responds with a smile, instead of answering his question. The grey is a little less gloomy.

And Finn finds he doesn't care that he doesn't yet have an answer. He smiles softly back at her, and wishes for a moment that he could hear her say that again tomorrow. And the next day.

"Sorry I left you alone for the drive for so long." He glances at the clock and sees she's been flying solo for several hours now. Despite her salutation, it was well into the afternoon. "Did you have any problems?"

She shakes her head. "Don't be sorry—I'm glad you could get some sleep after you drove all night. We're coming up on Hoth now."

They drove in companionable silence for a few minutes. The grey world around them didn't improve much, but soon they were exiting the freeway into Hoth. Well, they didn't exit the freeway, so much as it just slowed and turned into Main Street.

Hoth was as far north as any main population center went. It was a quaint little town, known for two reasons. First, the aboriginal folk herded Reindeer, held a massive and enrapturing festival at mid-summer each year, and designed some of the most beautiful fur clothing in the world.

Second, a key battle in the rebellion against the Empire had taken place here thirty years ago, and any visitor who wasn't here for mid-summer was certainly here to see some of the downed fighters and tanks in the open tundra of Hoth.

Even Finn and Rey, decidedly _not_ in Hoth for its history, found themselves parked in front of the visitor center.

"And you're sure this is the address Maz gave you?" Rey asks again, not quite able to connect a war memorial visitor center with a First Order hideout or meeting zone.

Finn nods as he studies the building. It is fairly uninspired, and if he wasn't more concerned with its hidden purpose, Finn might express his disappointment in the government's lack of inventiveness with their building that represented freedom and victory from oppression. Instead, he doesn't dwell on that, and looks for movement inside and other potential entryways. He tries to envision the interior using images on Rey's phone that various visitors have posted and are open to viewing.

"Do you mind if we scout the building this evening and come back first thing tomorrow?" Finn asks. "I can get us a couple hotel rooms down the street so we're fresh for the return trip tomorrow after we've gone inside."

Rey thinks about it for a moment before nodding. "I've always wanted to be a part of a stake-out," she says, and Finn hears just a little forced excitement in her voice. He wonders if she's scared.

"I can get the rooms now and drop you off," Finn suggests. "I can't promise this won't be really boring."

She flashes him a smile that makes his heart beat harder in his chest. "Finn, I'd rather your company in boredom than being alone in a hotel room with some shitty cable channels."

He tilts his head, a warmth spreading through his chest. "We'll see if you feel that way in a few hours."

 

"I have to admit," Rey says later that night as they stumble into a hotel room. "Stake-outs are less exciting than I thought they'd be."

Finn's laughter fills the room as he throws his bag on one of the two double beds in the room. Finn had tried to get two rooms, but Rey had timidly asked if they could share one. He still can't quite tell if her motivations were related to fear or simply a desire to be close to him. Either way, Finn was happy to oblige.

But now that they're here, in a room with a bed, Finn can't help where his mind wanders. He watches her walk to the second bed, and put her own bag down. His eyes dart down her body—she's been traveling in comfortable, loose-fitting sweats. Yet even in the baggy clothes, he can't help but appreciate her round backside as she bends forward to peer into her bag.

He averts his eyes, angry at himself. He's been getting along so well with her, he doesn't want to screw it up with base urges. She's grown to trust him enough in the last day and a half to share a room with him. Surely he can keep his mind from thinking about how beautiful she is, or her lips on his, or whether her strong legs are as smooth as they looked back when she was in her skirt at Maz's. Surely he can stay focused on her eyes and her words, and not about the calloused hands he had held, and how they'd feel on his body.

"Finn?"

Finn squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head. She caught him; he didn't realize he'd been staring again. Hopefully not at her ass. Hopefully, he'd just been looking at her beautiful face. He opens his eyes again to see her looking back at him with some of that same heat he'd just been feeling.

"Yeah, Rey?"

Her voice is softer than normal. "Do you, uh, want to use the loo first, or should I?"

He clears his throat. "Go ahead."

And he's forced to listen as the shower turns on a minute later and think about the water hitting her naked body. He guesses that she likes her showers hot—steam is probably filling the bathroom, her skin turning red under the heat and pressure. She's rubbing soap up and down her—

Finn shoots up from his seat on the bed and walks over to the window. He opens the curtains slightly to look into the early night of Hoth. The sun had gone down some time ago, and they'd seen nothing of note at the visitor center. Instead, he'd just enjoyed a few more hours chatting lightly with Rey.

She told him a little more about Tatooine as a child, he told her a little more about the things he knew, even if he couldn't remember how he knew them. But mostly, they just chatted about the town, making up fun stories for the few people that they did see walking the cold streets. They joked about what life must be like so far north. Finn could still feel the heat on his arm where she'd grabbed him while he quipped about the lack of sun in the winter.

How can such a small touch be so memorable? The only thing more distracting is her smile. Big and beautiful. And somehow _his_. He knows that smile is just for him.

The door opens to the bathroom, and Finn swings around. He hadn't realized she'd finished showering. And there she stands, just a thin towel wrapped around her body. Finn's feet carry him toward her. She's strong—he sees it in her bare shoulders and arms. Yet somehow her skin looks soft, and he has to pull back his hand from caressing her arm.

"You didn't use all the hot water, did you?" he manages to ask, trying desperately to lighten the thick air around them. Rey hasn't moved from the doorway, and he wonders why. But her look is smoldering, and it's doing things to his brain right now.

"No, you're fine. The shower should be fine."

He's standing right in front of her now, and she still hasn't moved. He glances at her lips, at the skin of her neck and chest. Through the thin towel, Finn drinks in the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips. Powerful, long legs emerge from the lone article between them, and Finn envisions them over his shoulders. His mouth is dry, and when his eyes reach hers again, he sees raw hunger.

Her hand reaches out and rests on his chest. Her fingers curl into him and he feels her nails through his shirt. And for the briefest of moments, he thinks she's about to jump into his arms and kiss him. He'll feel that glorious skin against his, and who knows where the night will take them.

But then she turns her head, eyes screwed shut. Her hand drops, and her breaths are coming out like Finn's, heavy and uneven. She slowly moves out of the doorway and lets him in.

They don't exchange words. Only a brief look of hesitation and longing. Finn knows it's probably not a good idea tonight. Rey seems to agree. Whatever might have happened, it's best to wait until _after_ he finds out what his connection to the First Order is. He doesn't want to make things complicated for Rey.

He showers quickly. He doesn't let his mind or hands wander. Despite the heat in his stomach and the slight arousal from seeing Rey like that, Finn knows he can't entertain this idea any more tonight.

Yet, seated on her bed against the headboard, Rey eyes his naked torso as he exits the bathroom. She's got a book in her lap, long forgotten. He'd been in no state of mind to remember to bring his change of clothes into the bathroom with him, so instead he walks half-naked in front of Rey to his bag. He can feel her eyes on him like he's a piece of art, and she's trying to discern his meaning. He looks over at her, and she doesn't remove her gaze.

Their eyes meet again, and their stare lasts longer than it should.

"Rey," Finn breathes out warningly.

And she understands him. Somehow, she knows they can't keep walking the tightrope tonight, like him. So she nods, and pretends to read her book.

Finn's not sure if he's had relationships in the past. But he's quite sure this isn't how they've gone. He feels such an instant connection with her, mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. He wants only one thing more than to walk over to her bed and press a kiss to her lips. To feel her fingernails scratch at his back as he lowers himself over her. To peel off her shirt and touch her, taste her.

He shakes his head and grabs some clothes to take back into the bathroom.

No, the one thing he wants more than that is to keep her as his trusted friend. And the two can exist simultaneously—he hopes they do some day. But for tonight, it needs to stay simple; because tomorrow things might get very difficult.

When he emerges, Rey's eyes bore a hole in her book. She doesn't look up until he climbs into his bed and pulls the blankets over himself.

"Finn?" She says, voice wavering.

He turns to her, expecting to see the heat in her eyes again. But it's gone, to his relief and sadness. Instead, she looks almost apologetic, ashamed.

His brow furrows and he turns his body more fully toward her. "Yeah Rey?"

And then silence. Finn would press her to speak her mind, but she looks so absolutely torn up, he's not sure a nudge to open up would be appreciated.

After far too long, she turns her head away from him and goes back to staring at her book. "I just want you to know, that whatever happens tomorrow...I'm really glad I got to know you. And I really, _really_ , wish we could have met under different circumstances."

In an odd way, it almost feels like a goodbye. At least overly ominous. Finn feels heavy without knowing why. But he also feels her sincerity that she was happy to meet him.

Finn doesn't sleep well that night. He's nervous about what tomorrow will bring. The odd sleep schedule from their drive has made him exhausted but not fatigued. But, more than that, he's listening to Rey sleep just a few feet away, and he can't stop his mind from thinking about her.

Sure, he envisions how tonight _could_ have gone. In a direction where she's naked and curled up in his arms instead of in a different bed. But mostly, he just thinks about her words to him on the side of the freeway.

Whatever he finds out tomorrow, he can still hope for a new life. He doesn't have to be the man he was, this designated number **FN-2187**. He's Finn now, and according to Rey, Finn is a pretty good guy.

 

The visitor center is fairly standard, but Finn can sense immediately that something is _off_ about the building. It's got pamphlet stands near the entryway, displays of tanks and fighters from the battle of Hoth in the back corner, and a large model of the Hoth landscape in the center of the room. Finn can press buttons to shine a small light on areas of the layout, and a narrator will speak to the event that occurred there.

But as good and normal as it all seems, Finn can feel the gaze of the employee, the lone person in the room besides Finn and Rey. Finn can sense that the building was quite a bit larger than the portion available to visitors. And he can see the biometric scanner on the door that had no business having a scanner of that magnitude. It was hidden well, disguised as a thermostat, but Finn knows what it is.

"Rey, I really don't think you should be here," he says, trying one last time to dissuade her. They'd had quite the argument this morning, but Rey had insisted on joining him. She wanted to be there for him no matter what he discovered. She hadn't brought it up, but Finn knows his brief breakdown on the side of the road was in her mind. And even if he feared for her safety, his chest had swelled with her unwavering support.

"And I really don't think now is the time to bring this up," Rey counters with a glare. "We already had this fight."

Finn snorts and falls for her just a little bit more. "Had to try."

She merely smiles at him and reaches out to squeeze his hand. He nods at her before releasing her hand and readying himself.

Finn grabs a metallic water bottle with a snowy landscape label and bold letters spelling **HOTH,** and he struts to the front, where the employee carefully regards him.

"Slow day?" Finn asks, hoping he has read the employee correctly.

The man is in his mid-thirties, just a little overweight, and looks like he is _trying_ to look inconspicuous. Finn doesn't buy it for a second.

He takes the water bottle from Finn. "It's the slow part of the season." He checks the price tag for the water bottle, but Finn had the money ready before he could ask for it.

"Good," Finn said with a nod. The man's hand slowly moves below the counter. Finn inwardly sighs. Obviously, this guy had not been trained for the same work as him.

Finn lunges forward and clutches the man behind his head and jerks him toward the countertop. There's a loud _clack_ , and the man loses consciousness immediately. The gun that he had been reaching for under the counter clatters to the ground.

"Shit!" Finn hears Rey curse behind him. He turns to her to find wide eyes peering over the table, where the man slid unceremoniously to the ground.

"Lock the door," Finn orders as he moves around the table. "Flip the sign to 'closed.'"

She nods and Finn lets himself be impressed for just a moment at her quick action and lack of panic.

Finn bends down to check on the man. His eyes sweep over the E-11 rifle on the ground, and he bites back a scoff. Terrible weapon choice for the setting. He grabs the man's wrist and pulls back his jacket sleeve to reveal a familiar tattoo. **BR-0232.**

Finn lets out a slow breath, grateful for the confirmation that he didn't just knock out an innocent government employee, but rather a First Order lackey—likely someone who had not shown aptitude in their physical training and been given a less stringent job.

He grabs the man under the armpits and drags him from behind the counter. "Need any help?" Rey asked as she gets back from the front of the center.

"Can you grab my water bottle?" Finn asks, pulling the man back to the door with a biometric scanner.

Rey gives him a confused look, but did so anyway. Together, they maneuver the man at the door so Finn can easily press his fingerprint to the scanner. A small LED flashed red. Finn frowns, and tries another finger.

He steps through all ten digits, none granting them access.

"Is he not First Order?" Rey asks, her voice anxious. Finn shows her the tattoo on his wrist, and she sighs with the same relief Finn had a moment earlier. "Maybe you should try?"

Finn eyes her with a quirked eyebrow, but once more he finds no judgment in her. He believes she truly doesn't care if he has clearance for this door. She's already over his potential past, and Finn wonders if he ever will be.

He presses his finger to the scanner. A green LED and a _click_ of a lock signals his clearance.

Finn sighs and feels his shoulders sag, but stands to open the door. He motions for Rey to stay back.

Finn pulls out his pistol—stolen from Kanjiklub a week ago—and sneaks into the locked room. It's dark inside, and he can't hear any movement. He lets his eyes adjust, creeping forward, gun out. The light behind him provides enough illumination to make out a brief hallway followed by an open room, no bigger than the hotel room he and Rey shared.

There's a few small lights flickering on the opposite wall—computers, monitors, power strips. Finn sweeps the room for any hiding adversaries before finally letting himself breathe. Once he knows the room is clear, he drops his weapon and searches for a light switch.

Within a minute, the room is lit, the First Order operative is sitting against the wall, and Finn has propped his metallic canteen against the door. Finn just winks at Rey's curious glance and hurries to the computers ahead of him.

It's a tense minute as they boot up the machine. Neither Finn nor Rey break the silence, and in Finn's case, he simply has no idea what he can say. Because any minute, he could find out he's a murderer and a terrorist, and even if he hasn't let himself dwell on it, it's all he can think about right now.

The computer boots up and requests another scan. This time, Finn has to press his finger to a pad and his face in front of a camera. The computer boots up, and he hears Rey hold her breath behind him.

He's instantly brought into a database. Finn's fingers fumble over the keys **FN-2187** spectacularly, but he eventually get a search in and he freezes.

His image pops up. It's recent. Like, months ago, recent. A quick glance at the toolbar and the setup tells him the computers in this room are on a closed network—so any information on this computer is from the most recent manual update. He doubts he'll see anything about his disappearance on here.

Instead, he clicks on a file called "Alias," wondering if he'll learn his real name.

Samuel Jensen is the first name he sees, and he frowns. It doesn't feel quite right. He learns why after a quick scroll. After passing by his birthplace and year, he finds a second name. Harvey Lenstrode. Then Rick Bender. And Jason Thorne.

And the list extended. Nine aliases. Finn exited the folder as a pit formed in his stomach. He might not find out who he was at all—did the First Order even know? Or care?

He felt a hand on his shoulder then, and turned to find Rey's supportive smile looking back at him. He reached up and grasped her fingers. He took a deep breath and turned back to the files.

It didn't take him long to learn some things about himself. He scored in the 99th percentile of all of his tests, received the highest marks and greatest praise possible in every category. He found out his CO was Captain Phasma, and upon seeing her name, Finn's head throbbed, and he thought he could see a face for a moment—no, he couldn't see her face, but he heard her voice. It echoed into the silent room, " _FN-2187_ , do not hesitate!"

With a shake of his head, he gets back to the files, and finds something incredibly reassuring. There's no information on missions or field-action. Finn believes—and hopes, oh does he hope—that he had only been graduating his training when he lost his memory. There are mentions of recommendations to the Knights of Ren, but no official position beyond _cadet_. He can't speak to the few months between the latest update of this computer and now, but he wasn't a Knight of Ren as of the update.

"Rey, I..." Finn starts, turning back to Rey. She's been reading the same things as him, hearing his positive muttering, and responding with some of her own. And now, she looks at him with a surety. Like she knows something about him that she couldn't have been certain about before. And behind that certainty is a happiness.

And then Finn hears the twang of his metallic bottle hitting the floor. He darts out of his seat, pulling Rey with him to the opposite wall, adjacent to the hallway connecting to the door.

He presses against the wall, pulling out his pistol once more. The water bottle rolls on the floor, its creepy tone stopping only once it hits the hallway wall. And Finn waits, because now that the sound is gone, Finn can hear the _noise_.

A rustle of pant legs, a restrained breath, and the clenching of a fist. It's a hand sign—there are multiple assailants.

Finn sees the gun emerge from the hallway and shoots with a step forward. His bullet runs right through the man's hand. He screams, and his gun drops to the floor. A second man, hidden against the wall closer to Finn, reaches out and strikes Finn's hand with a telescopic baton.

Finn drops his gun and staggers back into the open room, where he sees the two First Order men better. The one who hit him steps forward immediately. He has broad shoulders, is half a head taller than Finn, and his eyes flash with hatred.

"Traitor!" he shouts, winding his baton up for another whack.

Finn is able to block the attack with his hands, though it leaves them stinging with pain. His eyes dart about, seeing Rey huddled against the wall still, safe for the moment at least. The other man is clutching his hand, blood streaming from the wound. Finn's gun had slid out of reach, and the baton-wielder steps between him and his weapon. Finn also sees a pen on the table top and grabs it.

The First Order agent steps forward, arm raised to strike a nasty blow. Finn jumps right to avoid the swing, and slashes the pen upward. It lodges on the underside of the man's forearm, and he screams out in pain. Finn pulls back his makeshift weapon, now covered in thick red.

In the corner of his eye, Finn sees the other man move toward his dropped gun, and Finn is forced to dive forward at his current enemy in an attempt to push him back into the other. He is rewarded with a vicious blow across his back, as the man brings the baton down on him hard. They land with a thud on the ground near Finn's gun, and Finn drives the pen into the man's throat as he leans back to avoid another hit.

Finn grabs at his pistol, glances up, and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun.

He is sure this is the end, a life of just five or six days. Full of confusion and wonder. And Rey. Now he wishes he'd spent last night with her, discovering her, praising and worshiping her. He wishes he could have heard her moan his name, the only one he'd ever know.

Instead, she shouts his name in a panic as she jumps forward, expertly knocking the gun to the side as a shot fires just over Finn's shoulder. He stands to finish the fight, but quickly sees he doesn't need to. Rey grabs the man's arm as he swings it around to shoot at her, then brings her other hand up on the underside of his elbow. Finn hears a sickening crunch, and the man lets out a scream and drops the weapon. Rey catches it, high-kicks him in his chest, and puts three bullets in his torso as he staggers backwards.

She turns to Finn, gun still raised, and he finds his own gun pointed at her now. They stare at each other, and while Finn doesn't think she's going to shoot—and he's fairly certain he could never shoot her—Finn knows their relationship just got a whole lot more difficult.

Because she didn't learn that move on the streets of Tatooine, no matter how scrappy she had to be to survive there.

"Fuck, Rey" he says, his heart hurting more than his head, back, or hand. "Who the hell are you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to say here. So...
> 
> ...let me know what you think. I guess?


	5. Rey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now...just who is Rey?

The hum of the incandescent lights and the slight whir of the computers are the only sounds for a good five seconds as the standoff continues. Well, that and the buzzing in Finn's ears as he tries to make sense of what he just saw.

"Rey," he repeats, softly this time. He stares down the barrel of his gun at her, her own gun trained right back on him. She looks like a professional holding that weapon, just like she'd looked like a professional when she'd taken down the highly trained First Order agent. "Who are you, really?"

Her eyes slowly change from dangerous to sad. They lower from his face to his chest, and then to her feet. Her gun drops as well, and her whole body slumps with her sigh.

"I'm so sorry, Finn," she whispers. "I wanted to tell you—I wanted to tell you so bad."

"Tell me what?" Finn's heart races, and his grip on his gun tightens—though he notes his finger has yet to move to the trigger.

"I'm with the Resistance," she admits. "Specifically a Jedi Knight."

The name sounds vaguely familiar, like a tune he can sing along with, but could never carry alone. First, mentions of Knights of Ren, and now Jedi Knights? He can guess what they are, but asks anyway. "What are those?"

"Anciently," Rey started with a wry grin, "they protected the crown. The Old Republic adopted the name for their elite special forces, and the New Republic revived it. We're a small section of the Resistance—a team formed specifically to combat the enemies of the Republic. Today, that's the First Order."

Finn nods. He isn't so concerned about the inner workings of the Republic military as he was the implications of his relationship with Rey. He doesn't move from his position, his grip on his weapon the only thing he can be sure of right now.

"So, waitressing at Maz's?" he propounds.

She must realize where his mind has gone, because she drops the gun to the ground. It clatters and stills. "Finn, I swear to you, if I'd have known the kind of man you'd be—"

"Rey," he interrupts. He just wants facts. "There will be time for justifications and explanations later. I just want the truth."

She's hurt, Finn sees it plainly on her face. The only problem now is that he can't trust even what he sees. After all, she's been lying to him since the beginning without him realizing. Her look of hurt could be a lie, too.

"When Han found you, he contacted his wife Leia Organa. He knew you were First Order the second you showed him your tattoo. He trusted you and your story, but he's been out of the game for years. He wanted to help you, but recognized you might be invaluable to the Republic."

"He sold me out," Finn huffs. Even Han had lied to him.

"No!" Rey pleads, and Finn wants to believe her so badly. Wants to trust the devastation in her eyes—that she truly is sorry the way this has all played out. But his head won't let him. "Finn, Leia wanted to bring you in immediately. She had a task force half-assembled, but Han wouldn't tell her where you were. Said he promised to help you, and he was going to keep that promise."

Finn looks away from Rey for a moment, his gun dropping a fraction of an inch. That _does_ sound like Han.

" Luke Skywalker proposed an alternative. A way for you to find out who you were _and_ what Leia wanted."

Again, a familiar name that still means nothing to him. "Luke Skywalker?"

A ghost of a smile appears on Rey's face, and Finn is reminded of the girl he'd spent a couple days with. How he wishes that was the real Rey.

"Master of the Jedi Knights," she answers. "Leia's brother. And my father."

It feels significant, this revelation. First of all, this makes Rey Han's niece, which might be a fun connection in less distracting circumstances. Finn's grip on his gun lessens, because it also means that Han was true to his word in a round-about way.

"So you guys set up a trap at Maz's to pass me along to a Resistance handler. Kanjiklub didn't show up that afternoon. You all just wanted me to bump into you alone on my way out." It made sense. Rey was qualified and connected in ways Han wasn't anymore. Rey could keep an eye on him and Han could keep his promise of helping him discover his past. They'd made him believe she needed money, wanted to see Hoth, and needed to go on an adventure. And that they had an instant connection—surely they'd faked that, too. "What if I hadn't asked you to come with me? I mean, there's more to it than keeping an eye on me, right?"

Rey nods and sighs. "If you hadn't invited me along, we have agents stationed here that would have stormed the building as soon as you unlocked the database. The only reason I didn't tell you everything last night is our ulterior motive," Rey says, and Finn is reminded of the odd thing she told him last night. That she wishes they'd met under different circumstances. That whatever happens, she was glad to get to know him. Finn briefly lets himself echo the sentiment.

"This Hoth base isn't the first First Order outpost the Resistance has known about. But every time we infiltrate one, we're blocked by the biometric security. It's easy enough to knock down a door, but these computers are impossible to hack. They have no external network to go through, and the data is programmed to destroy itself upon attempts to decrypt directly. The best hackers in the Republic have failed the only other chances we've had, and the First Order is usually quick to erase clearance for their captured or killed agents."

Finn finally lets his gun down—the truth of the situation has left him warn down and betrayed. He glances down at the man he stabbed with the pen. Blood has pooled beneath him, and Finn looks back at Rey quickly, away from his handiwork. "He called me a traitor. You think he was here to erase my clearance?"

Rey shrugs and shakes her head. "I wish I knew more about your recent past. I wish I would've just told you yesterday about everything. Hell, I wish you weren't involved in this at all."

He hears the longing in her voice. Wants to believe it, too. But he can't. He won't.

"All of this for some names," he mumbles, turning away from Rey at last and looking back at the computer. It probably has a lot of valuable information on agents and aliases that will be very helpful in the short term. But the Resistance aren't dumb. They know those aliases will disappear the _second_ the First Order hears their database was infiltrated.

"Not just names, Finn," she says, and somehow his name feels wrong now. He'd fallen in love with it coming from her lips yesterday, and now his stomach churns at the sound. He's furious at himself for letting himself believe she could care about him. For letting himself be comforted by her, and attracted to her, and _happy_ with her.

"Our intel suggests they have nuclear weapons and are readying to use it."

Her words shock him out of his depression and he spins back around to look at her. His panicked look must be enough of a question for her, so she elaborates. "One of our top agents Poe went MIA a week ago. But before radio silence, he sent out a transmission. Their nuclear program is named Starkiller—and it's being prepared."

Finn falters, and his head pounds as a now-familiar female voice echoes in his mind again.

_"He's a danger to Starkiller," she says. She's tall, stern. Her cerulean eyes have a way of flashing with danger while staying immutably blank._

_They stand before a monitor, a map displayed. The city Tuanul blinks, and to the side a blurry image of a man, no taller than FN-2187._

_"Your final test before the Knights initiate you."_

Finn steps back, and motions for Rey to get to the computer. She observes him curiously as he tries to work through the vague pieces of a memory. But even while he's dealing with this lost piece of him, and Rey still betrayed him personally, he totally gets it now. Duping a First Order amnesiac was well worth the lives of millions. And Rey _still_ manages to feel bad about her con.

Rey types frenetically into the database to narrow her search as Finn watches over her shoulder. And sure enough, within moments, Finn sees vague details of project Starkiller. Clearly, the information on this satellite base in Hoth is heavily restricted—but there are some details that might be key for the Resistance in preventing a catastrophic attack.

She turns to Finn, fear and sadness in her eyes. "Finn, I really don't like the way things are sitting right now, but I need to call this in."

And Finn shakes his head in amazement at her. And allows himself to get pulled right back in—her eyebrows are knit together with concern, and she looks at him like _he matters_ in this moment. His brain screams at him not to fall for it. That she's still playing him, trying to keep him around in case they need his fingerprint or retinal scan again in the future. But then, she's also waiting for him to respond.

"Rey," he manages, throat unexpectedly tight. "Of course call it in. You could save millions—don't worry about me."

And then she looks at him like _he's_ the impressive one, and Finn has to turn around and walk out of the room. He doesn't know who Rey is anymore, and with every action he only gets more confused. So he exits back to the main visitor center, finds a seat, and buries his head in his hands.

 

The hours pass surprisingly quickly once the Resistance arrives. There's a half dozen that filter in early, and another half dozen a couple hours later. Finn assumes the first six had been given orders to wait in Hoth, should Rey need help in her mission. The second batch was a sign of her success and need for more specialized work.

He is never detained, but Finn can tell there are a few agents keeping a wary eye on him. It makes him retroactively respect Rey. Either she was one hell of an actress to be able to hide her disgust at him being from the First Order, or she was genuinely empathetic to his situation. So, he either respects her ability as an agent or as a good human being. Unfortunately, he still doesn't know which. His throbbing head and constricted chest seem at war over the very question.

As the Resistance sweeps the surrounding area, sets up surveillance, and cleans up the bodies, they periodically come to ask him questions. Rey is in and out of the room, glancing over at him apologetically. She looks distressed, and Finn wonders if it's about him or the weapons of mass destruction that they are trying to find.

The first time she drops by, she hands him a pack of ice. "I noticed your hand was swelling from that hit you took from the baton."

Finn hadn't noticed. It's sweet she did. At least, he things it's sweet.

The second time she drops by, it's with a late lunch. "It's nothing special, but hopefully it gets the job done."

Finn hadn't realized he was hungry until he peeled off the sandwich wrapping and began eating. He thanks Rey quietly, and she lingers for a moment before nodding and getting back to work.

It's evening when they seem to clear off all of the possible information from the computers that they can, and start pestering him with all sorts of questions in what Finn assumes is a Resistance debriefing. The only problem is that he can't really answer the questions. His head hurts, and his breathing hasn't quite been working right ever since Rey revealed the truth about herself.

When she spots the pair of Resistance agents interrogating him, Rey hurries over to Finn and immediately breaks them up. "Okay, boys, that's quite enough."

The larger of the men, big-bellied and working on a beard, rolls his eyes at her. "Come on, Rey. We've got to get all possible information out of this one befo—"

"This one's name is Finn," Rey growls. "And he's given as much as he can and more than enough."

She dares either of the men to contradict her, and she reaches her hand out to Finn. Her voice is gentle when she speaks to him. "Come on, Finn."

He stares at her hand for a long moment. There's a warmth coursing through his body, compelling him to reach out and take it again. He wants to feel her fingers interlocked with his again. Wants to feel that reassurance and security that her touch brought over the previous two days.

But he thinks those days of reassurance are gone. He doesn't trust her hands anymore. Instead, he nods to her, and stands. Her shoulders sag and she sighs, but nods her head toward the door. "Let's go."

"Where are you going, Rey?" the man calls out as they walk away. "We need to get back to headquarters."

"Go without me," Rey calls over her shoulder. Finn's not entirely sure of the implications. But he's also too emotionally drained to worry about it.

The drive back to the hotel is silent. Rey opens her mouth to speak a couple of times, but doesn't end up saying anything. Finn's okay with that for now.  When they arrive back in the hotel room, things are tense. He stands just inside the closed door, and Rey takes a few steps forward to drop her purse on the bed.

Less than a day ago, her presence in this room with him was maddening. Every movement had felt like a seduction, every word a come-hither. Had it all been part of her plan to earn his trust? How far was she willing to go?

"Do you have any questions?" Her voice shocked him out of his reverie. She's turned around to face him. He has questions alright. But maybe he is too embarrassed to ask.  But more than that, how can he believe her answers?

He clears his throat. "Did you find enough information to stop the First Order?"

Rey groans and looks up at the ceiling. "Finn, that's not the ques—" she stops her impatient retort and takes a breath. "Yes. I think we got sufficient information to find Starkiller and hopefully stop it. But you know that's not the kind of questions I'm wondering about."

Finn nods. He's not going to play dumb. "Why did you want to tell me last night?"

Her features soften, the hard lines in her forehead gone as she responds. "Because I knew you were different. You would understand, and help us. And...I didn't want to keep lying to you. But..."

"You were thinking about millions of people, Rey. I get it." And he really does get it. He truly can't hold the action against her. But that doesn't change the action. "All those lives are more important than one wildcard."

"But now I _am_ worried about the one person, Finn. And I don't think you're a wildcard. I never expected to connect with you so much, and like being with you. You—"

"Please stop," Finn says through his hammering heart. She'd taken a step forward, and her hand is half-raised as if to touch him. His body aches for that touch, but he can't do it. The ache of losing his trusted friend is stronger than the ache for her touch. "Rey, please stop. I can't believe you anymore."

Her eyes fill with tears. She closes her mouth and looks down at the floor. "I understand. The keys to my car are in my purse. I'll use the loo, and if you're gone when I get back, I get it."

Finn frowns. "The Resistance is done with me?"

She shakes her head. "No, but you don't owe us anything, Finn. And I owe you your freedom. I'm so sorry. Take care of yourself. Please."

And she turns to walk into the bathroom, leaving Finn alone with the thoughts he'd been warring over all day.

Because the facts are that Rey tricked him, and lied about who she was. He's still not sure how much of her past was made up, but did it really matter? She'd comforted him on the side of the road, and Finn knew now that she was just protecting her golden goose. He had one more egg to give, and she was just making sure he was in a state to give it.

But...there are other facts. She'd saved him from the First Order operative. Hell, she could've shot him dead the moment he opened the database—or at least knocked him out. He was distracted and unsuspecting at the time, it would've been easy. But she let him look up his own history, and seemed genuinely happy at his relief. She _had_ wanted to tell him something last night. How would things have been different if she'd told him before he'd opened the database? Would he be willing to forgive her?

He already didn't blame her for it, so why can't he trust her now?

He shakes his head. Because he can't trust her now. He'll always wonder if she's playing him again.

He walks over to the bed and opens the side pocket of the purse. His hands move over some lipstick and some condoms, looking for the keys.

And his hand freezes, and he pulls out the set of three condoms. An odd sensation sweeps through him. A heat immediately sets in his stomach because Rey's still a stunning woman and the thought of being intimate with her is too tempting to ignore. But a final stroke of betrayal outweighs the heat.

He sits on the bed, glowering, and waits.

When Rey emerges a minute later, she smiles brilliantly when she sees Finn is still in the room. She walks over and sits next to him. "You stayed," she says simply, happily.

But even her beautiful smile and hopeful tone doesn't deter Finn from unclenching his fist to reveal the condoms. He raises an eyebrow and asks, "You would _sleep_ with me to earn my trust?"

Her smile drops, and she flushes a deep shade of red. "There's another Jedi who uses sex frequently to get information, or get close to people. He suggested I be prepared. I've never done that sort of thing before."

Finn laughs humorlessly. "Could've fooled me."

Rey scowls at him and crosses her arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you were driving me crazy last night, and you knew _exactly_ what you were doing. I'm just left wondering why you didn't go through with it."

Her scowl drops and her flush returns. "Finn, that wasn't an act—hell, the only reason I _didn't_ go through with it is because I was disgusted with myself. I couldn't fuck you knowing I was lying to you."

Silence again. Thick with tension, yet still contemplative in Finn's case.

"You weren't...acting?"

Rey scoffs. "Finn, you're kind of gorgeous, and I feel a real connection to you. Well," she hesitates. "Felt a connection, I suppose."

Finn's breathing grows heavy. Dare he hope? "That was real, too?"

Rey must sense that Finn's attitude has changed because she uncrosses her arms and turns to face him more directly. "Finn—these last two days, I've been more myself than in the past two _years_. I've been... _me_ with you."

And he believes her. His brain finally gives in to what his heart has wanted all day long. He's holding the evidence in his hand. She could've put the nail in the coffin last night, guaranteed he'd do whatever she wanted by spending the night with him. He knows he'd have fallen for her completely. But she _actually_ cared about him. So she couldn't go through with it.

So he leans in and kisses her.

She's surprised at first, he can tell. He can't blame her—he'd told her he could never trust her again just minutes ago. But that was minutes ago. This is now. And she responds by kissing him back fervently. He tosses the condoms on to the nightstand, perhaps for later use. His hands find her waist and hers wind around his neck.

Rey is the only thing in his thoughts. The taste of her lips has him chasing them at every turn. The warmth of her fingers, playing at his nape, elicits a light moan. And her body under his hands sends a heat through his entire being. She parts her lips, and Finn runs his tongue between them.

She whimpers, and Finn loses all control.

He pushes her back onto the bed, falling after her, legs intertwined. Her hair is done up in buns, so she keeps her head at an angle. He presses his forehead to hers and looks desperately into her eyes, blown with desire. "Rey," he whispers. "Please let this be real."

She runs her hands along his back and she nods. "It is, Finn. Please."

She pleads with him to believe her, so he attacks her lips once more. Their tongues dance, and Finn runs his hands through her hair, undoing the buns to give her more comfortable movement. And so he can move over and cover her completely with his body. He wants to be touching her everywhere possible.

He takes his mouth from hers, and she pouts adorably. Her lips are swollen, and her eyebrows angled down at his action. But then he moves his lips along her cheek, to her jaw line just under her ear, and he guesses that her frown is gone. She moans at his lips' ministrations and stretches her neck to provide an easy path for his kisses.

Her body is hot under his, and it doesn't take long for Finn's arousal to become apparent. Rey gasps into his ear when she feels him, and rolls her hips against his. Finn freezes, and his hand clenches on her waist. He breathes for a moment before pulling back again, and stares at her. Her look is bottled fire, and Finn opens the bottle.

She's tearing at his shirt and he's trying to pull hers up. They laugh at themselves and decide to take turns to make this process go more smoothly. Finn sits on his haunches and his shirt comes off first. He lets Rey run her hands along his stomach and chest for a moment. They're a little cold from the Hoth night air, and his muscles twitch under her touch. He covers her hand with his, and brings it to his lips, where he presses soft kisses to each finger.

When he's done, she dutifully lifts her arms to he can pull at her shirt. She sits up and he peels it off of her, letting his eyes soak in the beauty underneath. He unclasps her bra before lowering them back down and continuing his kisses down her neck and throat.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters into her collarbone, now wet from his lips and tongue.

"Didn't take you for the sappy type," she mutters, and he can _hear_ the smirk in her voice. Then she goes silent save her heavy breaths filling the room. He catches her nipple with his mouth while squeezing her other breast with a hand,  and her nails leave reddened streaks on his back.

"Finn!" she breathes, and he loves his name again.

While moving to her other breast, he asks her, "What do you want Rey? Tell me what you want."

His tongue swirls around her peaked flesh, and she manages to croak out, "more."

Unsure of what exactly she means, but hoping he understands, Finn pulls back and works at her pants. It doesn't take long to pull them down, and Rey is completely bare before him. He allows himself a moment to just take her in, observe her beauty in full before moving lower and pressing a kiss to her hip bone.

As he gets closer to her center, she rolls her hips into him in anticipation, and Finn lets out a moan. He pulls her legs over his shoulders and holds on for dear life. She's breathing erratically, her chest rising and falling quickly.

He covers her with his mouth and Rey lets out a short cry into the night.

From his perfect position between her legs, he glances along her toned stomach, over her small breasts to her breathtaking face. Her eyes are closed, and she's biting her bottom lip in a way that causes Finn to roll his hips against the mattress once. He hums into her and doubles his efforts to bring her to ecstasy.

Rey builds like a firework show. She's bright and exciting, writhing underneath him. She's loud in short, interspersed moans. And with each passing minute, Finn is sure he's watching the finale, but the show goes on just to prove him wrong, growing more brilliant.

Mesmerized by what just his lips and tongue are doing to her, he releases the death grip on her thigh over his shoulder to press a finger inside of her. Rey nearly screams, but turns her head into the pillow to muffle the sound. One hand grasps the bed sheet like she's afraid someone will pull it out from under them. The other hand pulls at his hair while pressing him more firmly against her. A second finger joins the first, pumping in and out. Her back arches off the bed again, and Finn is sure this is where he's going to die, and he's fine with it.

"Finn!" she gasps into the otherwise-silent hotel room, and Finn decides right then that he will never choose one of his dozen aliases as his name, even if he finds the true one. Because nothing will ever top hearing her moan 'Finn' like this.

And then she's coming, and it's everything this buildup has promised it would be. The fireworks explode in waves, one after another. She's beautiful and desperate in her pleas to him, trembling under his mouth and tongue. Her body rolls against him in sporadic waves, and he lets her dictate what he does for her with her chants of his name and the swing of her hips. Finn is dizzy, amazed at how aroused her orgasm has made him. He wants it to last forever, but she eventually slows her movements, and Finn matches her pace.

"Fuck, Finn." Her voice is tired, almost hoarse. And he slowly kneels up, and wipes his mouth with his forearm. The sight must give her instant energy, because after her eyes dart up and down his body, her pupils dilate and Finn sees a fire where fatigue had just rested.

She sits up and grabs him around the neck to pull him in for a searing kiss. They both moan at the same time, and then she's spinning Finn onto his back and tugging at his belt.

 

Later, Finn rolls out of bed, tired and sated and relaxed. He rubs absently at his chest where her fingernails had dug just a little too deep, but he smiles at the light irritation he finds there. She'd been careful to avoid his healing injury on his shoulder—but he was glad she didn't go easy on him otherwise.

"You're not getting dressed, are you?" he hears her sleepily say behind him. He turns his head to find her tired eyes trained on him. Even drowsily, she's checking him out. He smirks at her.

"We can wait until morning for another round," he reasons. She pouts, but closes her eyes and settles back into the bed.

Finn pulls on his briefs, washes his face, and makes it back into bed before the cold air of the hotel room has him shivering. Still, as he scoots behind Rey and wraps an arm around her, she lets out a light squeal when his cold feet press against hers. She turns around so they're face to face, and she glares at him good-naturedly. Finn smiles back at her and tucks his arm around her waist as their legs tangle and he steals her body heat.

"I hate you," she mumbles as she leans in to a quick peck on his lips.

It's obvious her actual words can't be further from the truth. Yet the phrase is said so endearingly, Finn has to wonder what exactly she does mean. What can she possibly mean, or feel?

What can _he_ feel?

Physically, Finn's not sure he can feel better. What they just shared was unbelievable. Raw, unfettered passion combined with a shocking amount of competence. Finn doesn't have any memories of previous experiences, but Rey's multiple gasps of pleasure told him his instincts certainly got the job done. And Rey was equal parts ethereal and animalistic, seemingly whenever he wanted her to be. So yeah, Finn's not concerned about how he feels about Rey physically. He's ready to buy a cottage here in Hoth with her and live out the rest of his days in eternal bliss.

 Emotionally—well, his stomach is doing that weird fluttery thing right now as they stare at one another, cuddling in bed. Though, those could be leftover from the physical feelings.

However, he can't stop smiling. So surely, he's emotionally well, right?

But again, he _did_ just have sex for the last hour. Finn assumes that would make most people smile.

Now that the heat of the moment is passed, Finn's trained suspicions creep back in.

This woman _lied_ to him. He doesn't know who she actually is. And yet, here he is, running a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear, looking at her like she's made of gold. Because maybe she _is_ the girl who held his hand on the side of the road and convinced him that he wasn't his past. That he was someone good and worth helping. That she cared.

Or maybe she is the Resistance agent who'd been looking to get information on the First Order. Maybe he'd just been a tool to her. And maybe he still is, and she is sucking him right back in to her manipulations for later use.

"Who are we?" he asks, and realizes the odd phrasing of what is typically a question of 'what are we?' But he's not so interested in a label for their relationship as he is an understanding of who each of them are.

Rey's smile drops from her face. "Can't we just be Finn and Rey?"

Finn sighs. "Can we ever be just Finn and Rey again, now that you know I was almost a Knight of Ren, and I know you tried to use me?"

Her hand settles on his chest, and she bites her bottom lip. It's not sensual this time. She's nervous. Maybe scared. " _Almost_ a Knight. _Done_ trying to use you, and full of regret. Maybe we _can_ just be Finn and Rey again."

Finn felt his features soften towards her again, and leaned forward to press a kiss to her nose gently. Because he's ready to drop it. He's ready to move forward, his suspicious mind be damned. "Okay."

"Okay?" Rey repeated. "As in agree to disagree?"

She'd asked this question before. On their drive here to Hoth. And he'd give her the same answer again. Because despite what his head and his training are screaming at him to say, he can't help what his heart feels.

"Okay as in...I believe you."

And a spark of hope lights behind her eyes, and her smile grows wide and brilliant. She folds herself into his arms, her head on his chest, and they sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite scenes in The Force Awakens was the confession scene. In a weird way, I wanted to reverse Finn and Rey's roles from that scene, dig in a little, and then make it just a little smutty. Did it work? *Shrug emoji*


	6. Resistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Finnrey Friday, all!

Finn wakes to the ringing of Rey's phone. He's alert within a second, and then at ease just a second later. Rey's arm is thrown around him, her head is on his chest, and she burrows it deeper as her phone rings a second time. Finn feels a smile come to his face, and he brushes her arm with the backs of his fingers.

A third ring, and Rey groans before rolling over to the night stand to fetch it. Finn rolls after her, his hand over her stomach, just under her naked breast. Her skin is hot and soft against his chest. He presses gentle kisses to her shoulder as she puts the phone to her ear and tries to sound like he's not affecting her.

"Good morning, Leia." Finn can tell her voice is strained, and wonders if Rey's aunt can tell, too.

Finn can't hear the response, so he just busies himself trying to distract Rey. He cranes his neck to kiss inward to her chest, nudging the blanket down with his nose on his way. He glides his hand up and teases her nipple with his thumb.

"Yes, General," Rey manages. She shifts to sit up and glares at Finn. He can see she's not actually mad, though. The blanket pools in her lap, and Finn hardens as he looks up at her. She is perfection.

So he leans forward and starts kissing her again, this time on her hip while his hand skims over the top of her thigh, thumb dancing on the inside.

Rey hits her head against the headboard and closes her eyes. "I'll leave right away, General. And yes," her eyes open with fire and she stares down at Finn. "I'll make sure Finn comes with me."

She turns off the phone, but her promise to the General is one Finn is looking forward to fulfilling. He pulls her to her back and swings between her legs in one motion. He leans down and presses his lips to hers.

"How long do we have?" he mumbles into her lips.

Her hands find his backside, and she pulls his hips to hers. "Thirty minutes until the plane arrives. So we've got to leave in twenty. Ah-" her breath leaves her as Finn rubs against her center. He's straining against his briefs, and Finn knows this could _easily_ be done in under twenty minutes. She shakes her head and looks at him desperately. "I'll want to shower, too, Finn."

Finn nods and rolls off of her and stands from the bed. At her whimper, he turns and smirks. "Come on, Rey," he offers her a hand. "Two birds with one stone."

She smiles shyly before emerging from the blankets and taking his hand.

 

When the plane lands after a few hours, Finn seems to find himself and remember that to most of these people, he's a former First Order operative. Somehow, he's forgotten that. Sometime between last night and this morning...

But as welcome as that second bout of amnesia was, Finn shakes his head clear of it. He needs to be on his guard now.

As if sensing his change of attitude, Rey's hand finds his, and he glances back from the window to see her reassuring smile. He's not scared of the Resistance. Not while Rey is with him. He's just wary of the stares and whispers that will surely follow him around the Resistance base. But he returns her smile, squeezes her hand, and nods.

She leads him from the runway straight to one of the many buildings on the base. The buildings feel old, and Finn is reminded that the Republic was not prepared for war for a long time after their founding. What Finn sees is just remnants of the Empire mixed with the rebellion from thirty years ago, with a fresh coat of paint.

He doesn't remember the First Order, but in his heart, he knows the Resistance is likely outclassed here.

The whispers and stares Finn suspected start collecting before they make it to their destination. Finn is surprised, however, that they're not only directed at Finn. Rey seems to be getting a lot of suspicious looks. Finn wonders if their affair from the previous night is already common knowledge. Or at least a rumor that they are verifying as they walk close together, almost protective of one another.

Finn hadn't considered the effect he might have on Rey's status in the Resistance. His heart thumps glancing over at Rey, her body language completely unchanged by the curious eyes. She truly didn't care about them. Only him.

When they reach a door with a keypad on the side, Rey turns to him. "You're sure you're okay being here?"

The answer is much easier than he thought it would be. "As long as you're with me."

She smiles and shakes her head. "Not going anywhere, Finn," she responds, punching in the code. There's a heavy clunk as the reinforced lock unbolts, and Rey swings open the door.

Inside is a fairly large war room. Monitors line the walls with various Resistance seated in front of them. In the middle is a horse-shoe table, with a short titan at its toe. The older woman exudes power and confidence, eyebrow raised and lips pursed as she appraises Finn and Rey. This must be the general, Leia. Finn can see where Rey gets her strength.

Finn scans the rest of the room, and is impressed by the focus they all seem to have. Those tending to their stations barely cast him a glance, and the others seated around the table remain relatively impassive. Three men stand out. Han and Chewie are here, studying him warily, and perhaps a little guiltily. A few seats down from them, a handsome man, several years Finn's senior, leans forward in his chair, practically bouncing with excitement.

Somehow, there's a tickle in his memory—like if he stares at the man long enough, he might remember something.

"General," Rey says, and shocks Finn back into focus. She leads him forward to the authoritative woman. "This is Finn."

Rey turns to Finn, then, and flashes him a quick smile. "Finn, this is my aunt Leia."

Finn clasps Leia's outstretched hand and shakes it once. Her skin is soft, and he physically feels her age in a way she doesn't let on in her bearing. "Finn, I want to thank you for your bravery. What you've done for the Resistance—starting with Poe, and now with helping us learn about Starkiller—we can't thank you enough."

Finn shakes his head in confusion. He's just about to ask about this Poe fellow, when the handsome man stands from his chair, grinning. He practically runs around the table to reach Finn.

"Buddy!" he exclaims, and Finn raises his hands to defend himself against this stranger. He doesn't seem to care, however, and wraps Finn in a tight embrace.

Finn doesn't want to start a fight with a Resistance member when there are over a dozen of his comrades here, so he finds himself accepting the hug. He looks to Rey for help, but she's merely fighting a confused smile and shrugs at him. He doesn't know what to do with his hands, so they wave erratically to his side while the man excitedly chats into his ear.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again." He pulls back at last and grabs Finn by the shoulders before looking him up and down. "After we got shot down and I couldn't find you, I thought you might have gone down with the plane."

Finn narrows his eyes at the man and finally gets a good look at him. His tanned face, while certainly handsome, has a hint of a faded bruise under the left eye. His skin is peeling from sunburn, and his lips are chapped. His curly brown hair falls over his forehead where it partially covers a stitched up wound. And his eyes—Finn's head starts to hurt. His eyes look so familiar.

_FN-2187 creeps around the corner. His mark is sitting on the sofa, humming softly. SE-14 pistol clenched in his right hand, FN-2187 is silent, step by step._

_"My little Bee Bee," his mark sings softly, and FN-2187 stops in his tracks._

_A toddler, bouncing happily on her father's lap. Dressed in an orange and white onesie, clearly putting up a fight over when bedtime is._

_FN-2187 puts his gun away, hand shaking, and heart pounding. He's going to be sick. He steps back. But not so silently this time._

"You really don't remember me, do you?" the man asks. His mark. Poe Dameron.

Finn's head pulses, but he shakes it lightly. "Just a flash," he says. "Your daughter, too."

The man beams, and hits Finn on the chest proudly. "And thanks to your good heart, she is safe and sound with her daddy away from Jakku. I'll be going to them as soon as this mess is all over."

Rey chose this moment to jump in, clearly catching on to the story better than Finn was, reeling from the memory as he was. "Poe, Finn saved you? That must have been right before Han found him."

Finn thinks 'saved' is a generous term. 'Didn't assassinate' is more accurate. Though there's something to be said for that, too.

A gruff voice from the other side of the table called out. "We've had the past few hours to work it all out," Han said. Finn looked over at him and offered a small smile. Of forgiveness for the lies and thanks for the support. "We must have picked Finn up just hours after their escape fighter was shot down by the First Order. Poe managed to survive at sea two days before getting picked up and working his way back here."

"I was able to supply the Resistance with what I discovered about Starkiller—the reason you were supposed to kill me."

"But I didn't go through with it," Finn whispers. His first assignment. He couldn't pull the trigger.

Poe beams at him. "Pretty remarkable, considering the training and brainwashing the First Order puts their cadets through. I owe you my life, Finn. I'm digging the name, too, by the way. Finn. Strong. It suits you."

Finn shakes his head, rather overwhelmed at this peek into his forgotten life. He glances over at Rey to find her looking at him. Just looking. A reverence, or maybe awe. Then she speaks, barely more than a whisper.

"Looks like you didn't even need to lose your memory to be the man I...that man you are today. It's always been you."

Finn smiles and looks down at his boots. They're a pair he'd found in Han's cabin on his freighter. Finn thinks he should polish them. Or maybe just buy a new pair. After all, Rey has never demanded the money he was going to pay her. He figures that deal was off the moment Rey revealed herself as a Jedi and was just after him for his finger prints.

And later, the rest of his body.

Finn sits down in a vacant chair, because he can't think straight. As interesting as his shoes are, Finn's not so sure why he's thinking about them. Rey rushes to his side and grabs his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Finn catches Han quirk his head. Poe shuffles his feet, and Leia steps forward.

"Finn, you haven't had a proper medical checkup since the crash. Perhaps Rey can take you to the medbay."

Rey smiles and squeezes his hand. "She's right—though if last night is anything to go by, I'd wager you're perfectly healthy."

Her voice is little more than a whisper with a smirk, but Poe's snort tells Finn that he had been close enough to hear.

"Rey's got to get debriefed and all caught up," Han says. "Let me take him."

Rey turned her head to argue, but Finn shook his head. He didn't need his presence causing any problems for Rey. "He's right, Rey. Just come find me when you're done?"

She studies him for a long moment before nodding. "Okay, but don't let Han give you any shit."

Finn stands back up with a chuckle, and Han and Chewie lead the way out of the war room. Chewie breaks the silence after just a few seconds.

" _I'm glad you're with us again, Finn_." His Shyriiwook makes Finn smile, the language bringing him an odd sense of nostalgia of simpler times. Finn isn't sure what it says about him that 'simpler times' included picking off Kanjiklub on Han's freighter, but he doesn't worry himself over it.

"It's good to see you guys again, too," Finn responds.

Han grabs Finn's arm to slow their walk to a stop. He looks intently at the amnesiac and Finn thinks he's never looked so old. "Listen, kid, I'm sorry we ran the whole dog-and-pony show to hand you off to the Resistance. I really would have loved to help you out on our own, but we didn't have the intel of the Resistance."

Finn shakes his head. "I get it, Han. I probably wouldn't have been as generous as you were if I'd found an agent of the enemy. Besides, I know you were in my corner."

He nods. "I knew there was something special about you, kid. And it looks like my niece thinks so, too."

Finn grins and doesn't care to hide his blush. "Rey's amazing," he confirms. "I mean, it was a bit of a downer to learn she was lying to me—but not about the important stuff, I guess?"

A smirk finds its way to Han's lips. "Well, I don't want any details. There are enough rumors as it is."

He leaves it at that and starts off down the hallway again, leaving Finn to chase after him. "Rumors?" he pesters. "What do you mean rumors?"

Chewie laughs aloud as they turn a corner, and Finn sees another man walking towards them. He's older, late middle-age, but Finn sees competency written all over his face and person. There's something very familiar about him.

"Rumors," Han hurriedly whispers, "That might give _that_ man a heart attack."

"Han! Chewie!" the man shouts as he nears them. He casts Finn a quick glance before pulling the older men into a hug.

"Luke," Han mumbles. "It's good to see you, old friend."

While Chewie echoes the sentiment, the name rattles around in Finn's head. _Luke_. Rey had mentioned a Luke.

_Luke Skywalker._

Her father.

"Luke," Han says after their embrace. "This is Finn."

Finn fights the urge to stand taller. He isn't wearing a tie, but feels like he should straighten one anyway. Instead, he extends his hand. "Sir, it's good to meet you."

Luke shakes his hand while his eyes bore into his soul. Finn gets the distinct impression that Luke can see his mind perfectly, know his every thought and intention. Normally, his instinct would have him in fight or flight mode at this intrusion. This man is the leader of the Jedi Knights, with over 30 years of experience—interrogation, spy-work, top-secret information—that tell Finn he'd seen and heard just about everything at this point. But Finn can't fight or run.

This is Rey's father.

"So, you're what all of the trouble has been about lately?" Luke asks with a half smile. "I assume my daughter took care of you alright?"

It's all Finn can do not to cough and sputter as his mind traitorously remembers how she _took care of him_ last night. But he's well-trained himself, and remains perfectly stoic. "Yes, sir. She managed to do her duty and help me while she was at it."

The half-smile bloomed into a proud grin. "I'm glad, and it's good to have you with us, Finn. Thank you for your help with Starkiller." He claps him on the shoulder while looking back at Han and Chewie. His face grows just a little somber. "Now where is that daughter of mine—we have more news to share."

"What news?" Han questions, clearly reading Skywalker's expression as Finn had.

"Join the Resistance again, and you'll be privy to that sort of information."

Han's glare would've startled Finn if he didn't know the man. Luke nods, his attempt at recruitment clearly half-hearted. "It's about...Kylo, Han."

The name gnaws at Finn, but he's too distracted by Han stiffening next to him to reflect on it.

"You know where he is?" he asks, voice barely a whisper.

Luke nods, and glances back at Finn. "Come with me, and we can discuss it."

Finn isn't offended that Luke won't reveal information in his presence. He also has no idea who this Kylo character is, and doesn't think it would matter much if he heard this secret information. Regardless, Chewie interrupts his thoughts. " _I'll take Finn, Han. Go back."_

Han nods softly. "Sorry, kid. I'll—I'll see you later."

"Sure, yeah."

And the brothers-in-law head back the way Finn had come from.

 

It takes some time to get looked after. The Resistance is understaffed, but everyone means well. It's only after Chewie and Finn decide to grab some dinner and come back that a doctor becomes available to see him.

After the checkup, Finn is given some medication to help with any inflammation and head pain he's experiencing. He also gets a vicarious berating for the haphazard stitch-job done on his shoulder.

"Your scar will be much worse now than if you'd gotten proper sutures to begin with," Doctor Kalonia tells him, even if it's Solo she should be scolding. Chewie stays silent in the corner, not wanting to draw any attention to his own culpability in it all.

Finn's not mad, of course. They did the best they could with their limited resources at the time. And Rey didn't seem to mind the damaged flesh last night, so what does Finn have to worry about?

Rey and Poe find him in the medbay room just as Kalonia is wrapping up with her instructions to take it easy for a few days and to ask if he has any questions.

"I've been getting flashes of my memory," Finn starts slowly, and smiles at Rey as she steps right up to him on the bed he's sitting on to take his hand. "Usually triggered by something—a name, an image, an emotion. Do you think I'll ever get it all back?"

Kalonia shakes her head sadly, and Finn can't help but catch the curious look she gives his and Rey's conjoined hands. "As much as modern medicine has taught us, the brain is still such a puzzle to us. It gives me hope that you've retrieved portions of your memory, Finn. But it's entirely possible they never all come back. Then again, you could wake up tomorrow morning with all of your memories."

Finn thinks on it for a moment. While it would be nice to gain his memories back, he's not all that concerned about it anymore. He looks between Rey and Poe and nods to himself. "Either way, I think I know who I am now."

Rey beams at him, and Poe reaches out to squeeze his good shoulder. "Buddy, Rey was tell—wow, strong arms there, Finn—she was telling me a little about your trip, and I was very relieved to hear you are the exact same man who escaped Jakku with me. Kind, thoughtful, intelligent."

"How did we escape, Poe?" Finn presses.

"Well, after I caught you not killing me, you told me if it wasn't you, someone else from the First Order would be on their way. When I told you I'd run with my husband and little Bee Bee, you shot that idea down immediately. The only chance my family had was if I wasn't with them, and the First Order knew it.

"So we went back to your base and stole one of their fighters. We were almost clear of them, too, before that other fighter caught up to us. You got him pretty good, though, before we went down."

"I took you _into_ a First Order base to steal an aircraft?" Finn asks incredulously.

"Buddy—you didn't just _not kill me_. You went out of your way to save my whole family at risk of your own life."

"Why?" It's not that he doesn't believe Poe. He simply doesn't understand why he wouldn't have just run.

Poe shrugs. "We didn't get very far in our therapy session, but you did tell me you'd been mistrusting of the First Order propaganda since you were a child. In the final days of your training, you learned about Starkiller, and then saw me with my little baby girl—not quite the monster they'd portrayed me as. Said you had to 'do the right thing' and let me warn the Resistance about Starkiller."

Finn hums, and Rey squeezes his hand.

"Anyway," Poe continues. "I just wanted to come by and thank you again. Because of you saving me and getting us into that database, we have enough information on Starkiller we think we can destroy it. All thanks to you, Finn."

"Glad I could help," is all he can think to say. And it seems to be enough. Poe grins and clasps his shoulder again.

"I'll see you around then," he says with a wink. "Take care of him, Rey."

Chewie bids a similar farewell before saying he needs to hunt down Han.

"C'mon," she says, pulling him to his feet. "I'm tired after a day of travel and briefings."

Rey leads Finn through the base, and Finn tries to put an extra foot between them the whole way. Finn is aware of the _rumors_ Han was talking about, after all. People around the base watch them, but Rey continually closes the gap between them. It's all Finn can do to keep from holding her hand. Eventually they get into a more secluded wing of a building with fewer passerby. And though he is observing every step they take, Finn finds himself surprised when she opens the door to a private quarters. It takes him half a beat to realize its _hers_.

"Rey, I totally understand if you want me to find somewhere else to sleep."

He doesn't want to put her in this position. But she turns confused eyes on him and tilts her head.

"The Resistance will talk," he mutters. They don't know him like she does. Taking the enemy to bed might be tough for them to swallow. "Your _dad_ will find out."

She almost looks angry at him for a moment. "Finn, I'm a grown woman, I don't nee—"

But then she cuts herself off and studies him a little closer. "What are you actually worried about here, Finn?"

Now it's Finn's turn to be confused. "I don't want you to get in trouble, or hurt your standing."

She nods. "Why?"

"Because I care about you, Rey," he says. He thinks that much is obvious, and doesn't understand why she needs to get to this conclusion.

"So if I want you to be in my bed, shouldn't you want what I want?"

She is leading him somewhere, and Finn doesn't know where. "I want what is best for you—and _us_ —long term, Rey."

She nods, but stays silent. "Rey," Finn huffs, now frustrated. "I can't do anything that—Rey, I can't lose you! Don't you get it? This is my life now! You..."

She steps forward quickly and kisses him. When she pulls back, they stay just inches apart. Any passerby in the Resistance would see them, and the rumors would run rampant. But with her this close, Finn finds he doesn't care much. "What about the First Order? What about your past?"

Finn considers her questions, and he comes up empty. "They don't matter anymore, do they?" he asks rhetorically. "You've helped me see who I am. I'm done with the First Order, and there's nothing left they can show me that matters. I'm never going back."

She stares at him, her eyes darting back and forth between his, looking for something. She has too many emotions on her face to discern, but after some combination of appreciation and sadness, she lands on resolve.

"Finn, if that's the case then don't worry about the Resistance. And certainly don't worry about my father. He trusts me like I trust him. Which means he'll trust you."

She presses her lips to his again, and pulls at his jacket, leading him into her room. Locked at the lips, Finn follows obediently, and lets her words wash over him. He lets his own words finally sink in, too.

Door shut behind them, Finn pulls back a step and holds Rey's face in his hands. He can't believe how beautiful she looks. He can't believe the look she's giving him right now, full of admiration and acceptance. And he realizes how honest that feeling has been since the beginning. Since they talked in her car and walked the streets of Yavin, that look has always been there. And he knows she's been seeing _Finn_ the whole time, before he could even tell her who Finn was.

And she trusts him. Completely. He hadn't trusted himself, but she'd believed in the man she got to know. And now, after meeting Poe—again—Finn finally trusts himself, too.

He kisses her desperately. He should have known Rey had been right about him all along.

Unlike last night, or even this morning, their kiss isn't hot with passion and frenzied with lust. Instead, Finn tries to tell her without words how grateful he is for the faith she had in him. He wants her to know how deep his devotion to her goes, but he can't articulate it. So he tells her with the brush of his lips on her neck and the flit of his fingers over her arms.

He tells her she's beautiful as he peels off her clothes, standing naked in her room together. But it's his look of awe and hurried breaths against her skin that he hopes can say what his paltry compliments can't.

He clutches at her as she gently strokes him between their bodies, and he bites at her shoulder. She has left her indelible mark on him, and he needs, _somehow,_ to mark her too. Sucking at the reddened flesh, he hopes she understands. With a whimper she releases him and climbs to his hips, wrapping her legs around him.

He squeezes her backside while supporting her, and shifts to slide inside her. They let out a simultaneous gasp. Arms around his neck, she leans back so they can just _look_ at each other. Finn feels too much, and he brings her forward again, so he can bury his face in her neck.

"Rey."

Barely a whisper, because it's the only word he can muster. And he's not sure how he can feel this much so quickly. And he wants to verbalize the words, but they don't make sense to him—they seem impossible.

Instead, he steps forward, toward the bed, and gently lays them down.

Last night was wild and hot and physical. Tonight is soft. Tonight is tender. Tonight, Finn feels himself choke up at the sound of Rey's whimpers. She clutches him tighter, arms wrapped over his back and hands gripping his shoulders. They move together, slow and purposeful. They build together, with whispers of adoration in the quiet room. He lifts his head to look her in the eyes as he feels his stomach tighten. And she's looking back at him. And she sees _him_.

When he comes, shuddering and panting, his eyes prickle and he squeezes his lids shut. He feels it all coming out now—the fear and confusion of the last week, the betrayal followed by trust, the vote of approval from actual Resistance members. And this wonderful, compassionate, driven badass of a woman in his arms. He buries his face in Rey's neck again, and is embarrassed that she can feel his tears.

But she turns her face to him, and kisses him. Her lips are feather light and so reassuring. They stare at each other while he softens and slips out of her. He sees it in her eyes. The words he couldn't bring himself to say. And she won't say them either.

Instead, she rolls him over and wraps an arm around his middle, holding him like he'd held her last night. Finn grasps her hand and holds it to his stomach. He listens to her breathing, feels it on his neck.

The unspoken words lull them to sleep.

The next morning, Finn vaguely registers Rey getting out of bed and moving into the bathroom. He considers joining her when the shower starts, but figures she would have invited him if she wanted him there. She emerges and dresses in silence, even as Finn observes her. She graces him with a smile when she catches him staring, but it's a reluctant smile.

After she's ready for the day, she sits on the bed and holds Finn's hand for a moment.

"Good morning," Finn hums, a little unsure about the way she's behaving.

Rey leans down and kisses him with a different energy. She's distracted and sad, her shoulders sagged. But her eyes hold those same words. So Finn doesn't question it when she tells him she has to meet with her dad. He can tell she doesn't want to leave, so he lets her walk out of her room with little more than a 'goodbye' and a second kiss. She casts a final glance over her shoulder before shutting the door, a look of longing and melancholy.

After ten minutes, Finn gets into the shower. The hot water rains down on him, and Finn thinks of her. He smiles at the memory of her smile. His body hums at the memory of her body. And he puzzles over the memory of her puzzling gaze.

He turns off the water and frowns. Because that look held those words. But her sunken gait said something else.

Goodbye, Finn.

He rushes to get dressed and all but runs through the base, looking for someone he knows. The first familiar face he finds is outside the war room. And it's Luke Skywalker. He looks at him disappointedly.

"So you didn't go with her, huh?" he asked, a little judgment in his voice. "Can't say I blame you, but I'd hoped you—"

"Go with her where?" Finn interrupts. "Where is she?"

Luke's eyes flash with confusion. He pauses a moment, fingers playing at his beard, and huffs with realization. "She was _supposed_ to ask for your help. I should've known she'd pull something like this. Always sparing others from the danger she runs into willingly."

"Master Skywalker," Finn says, having no idea if the title is correct and not caring one bit. "Where is she?"

He shakes his head sadly. "Off to destroy Starkiller, of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! I'm not sure if we've got one more chapter or two, but I'll try to get going on them soon.


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